


Parallel

by Rehearsal_Dweller



Series: Near Miss AU [1]
Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: College AU, M/M, Modern AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-05
Updated: 2020-06-12
Packaged: 2021-03-04 04:35:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 28,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24557761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rehearsal_Dweller/pseuds/Rehearsal_Dweller
Summary: Spot and Race want to get through college in one piece.David and Katherine want to change the world.Jack just wants to figure out who he is.
Relationships: Albert DaSilva/Jack Kelly, Crutchie & Jack Kelly, David Jacobs/Katherine Plumber, Racetrack Higgins & Jack Kelly, Sarah Jacobs/Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon & Jack Kelly, Spot Conlon/Racetrack Higgins
Series: Near Miss AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735408
Comments: 168
Kudos: 104





	1. Year One

**Author's Note:**

> Hellooo, I'm back with more words!  
> This is a pretty involved ensemble fic, but this first chapter is just about Race and Spot. That's because it's over the five years that span this group's college years and three separate storylines, but only Race and Spot are in college for the first year. So starting in the next chapter their story will be interwoven with Jack, Crutchie, & Sarah's, and David & Katherine's.  
> I hope you guys like this!

It’s not that Spot Conlon _wanted_ to room with Race Higgins exactly. But faced with the idea of moving to another state and being completely alone or moving to another state and keeping his one kind of friend as close as possible, the outcome was inevitable. So Spot requested Race as a roommate, and Race requested Spot, and now they’re moving into their impossibly small feeling dorm together.

Spot is also slightly regretting insisting the Medda didn’t have to come, because he’s feeling just a little out of his depth, but he knows that if Medda came his siblings would’ve come, and that would be worse. So Medda isn’t here, she’s at home in Wilmette with Jack and Smalls, and Spot is moving into his dorm on his own.

Kind of.

Race is here, and Crutchie’s Uncle Bryan. Bryan is the reason Medda agreed to not come – she didn’t like the idea of Spot moving in all by himself, but with another adult that she knows and trusts helping him get settled, she gave in. So while, admittedly, no one from _Spot’s_ family is here, he isn’t exactly alone. He likes Bryan well enough.

“Spot, you’ve got everything you need, right?” Bryan says, leaning against the wall by Race’s bed. “Anything we need to go pick up for you?”

“I’m _fine_ ,” Spot says. “Look, Bry, I appreciate the help, but I’m good. Just worry about Racer, he’s a lot more of a mess than I am.”

“Ignore him,” says Race. He’s standing on his bed sticking up a poster, but turns over his shoulder to stick his tongue out at Spot. “He’s just a bitch.”

“Race,” Bryan says, his tone long suffering and exasperated.

“He is!”

“You two _asked_ to live together,” Bryan reminds them. “Please, please don’t make me regret letting you do it.” He looks at Spot. “I do not want to have to go back to your mother and tell her you’ve already killed him.”

Spot snorts.

“Hey!” says Race. He drops into a seated position on the bed. “How do you know I won’t kill him?”

“Because I work out and you are a toothpick,” Spot says.

“I’m strong!” Race insists, just the teeniest bit of a whine in his voice. “I dance!”

“You’re still a fuckin’ toothpick,” says Spot.

Bryan sighs heavily. “This was a bad idea.”

“This was a great idea,” Race replies. “Spot won’t murder me until at least midterms.”

“We’re going to target,” Bryan says instead of dignifying that with a response. “Spot, do you need to go to target? Or are you staying here?”

“I’m staying,” Spot replies. “I’m good, Bryan, I swear. Medda stocked me up.”

Bryan nods. “Well, if you realize you’ve forgotten something while we’re out, text me or Race, okay?”

“ _Yes_ ,” says Spot.

Bryan and Race leave, and Spot is alone for the first time since they started their drive from Illinois to California a few days ago. The drive hadn’t been so bad, really, and Race hadn’t crashed the car when it was his turn to drive which Spot’s counting as a resounding success.

He sighs, looking around the room. It’s not huge, and Race’s side is already a hot mess. Spot’s seen Race’s room in Bryan’s house, so he’s under no illusions that this is just move in chaos. Spot’s not a neat freak by any means, but he does like at least a _little_ bit of order in his living space. Still, it can’t be that bad to live with Race. Crutchie has managed it for the better part of a year and a half, and they’re still best friends.

Hell, Spot’s shared a _bed_ with Race for the last few nights running, so if anything having him sleep an extra few feet away has got to be an improvement. And anyway, the other option was to room with some stranger. Spot would much rather room with Race than somebody he doesn’t know. He falls back onto his bed, digging his phone out of his pocket.

_LARKIN FAMILY_

_Me: hey were mostly moved in and stuff_

_Me: race and bry are shopping but ill get bry to take a pic of us for you before he leaves ma_

_Mama: Proud of you, honey! Thank you for the update!_

_Jackass: u killed race yet_

_Me: not yet but bry is not optimistic_

_Jackass: lol_

_Mama: Spot, please don’t give Bryan too much trouble._

_Me: I’m not givin bry anything_

_Me: it’s all race_

_Mama: Spot._

_Me: I’m being good mama I promise. You know how Race and I are._

_Mama: Good boy._

Spot reaches over and sets his phone on his dresser. He’s probably got a while before Race and Bryan come back. He could use that time to explore campus a little, only he promised Race they could do that together. For better or worse, Spot’s committed to spending a fair amount of time with Race in the coming weeks, actually.

Spot isn’t close with Race, but he’s pretty sure he’s about to be. Race is a bit of an oversharer, and highly social. He’d clicked well with Jack, who’s the same in those regards, and everybody Jack associates with ends up part of Spot’s life because Jack is just _like_ that. Race is Jack’s age, too, but of course underneath all the dumbassery he’s also some kind of genius, which put him a year ahead in school and studying fucking _astrophysics_.

The boy is a walking contradiction, and Spot has signed up to live with him for at least eight months.

He dozes off, the exhaustion from the last few weird as hell days finally catching up with him. He doesn’t wake up until Race crashes back into the room, arms full of bags. Without opening his eyes, Spot throws one of his pillows in the direction the noise is coming from.

“Not nice, Spotty,” Race says. It sounds like he bats the pillow away without much trouble. “Fuck, did we wake you? Sorry, dude.”

“S’fine,” Spot grumbles, sitting up. “Didn’t mean to fall asleep in the first place.”

Race starts bustling around and putting away the stuff he’d gotten at the store, while Bryan double checks that there isn’t anything else they’ve forgotten. Once that’s declared done, they’re going to go out for dinner before Bryan leaves for his flight home.

“Hey, wait –“ Spot says, catching Race by the sleeve. “Bry, could you get a picture of us in here for my ma?”

“Of course,” Bryan replies, grinning. “Medda will love that.”

They’re standing in the doorway of the room, and Spot can tell that Bryan is angling it so that more of Spot’s side is visible than Race’s which – well, fair. Race drapes himself across Spot’s shoulders for the photo, but once Bryan hands Spot his phone back he doesn’t pull away. They walk like that all the way to dinner.

Spot has never been especially tactile. He doesn’t _mind_ being touched, but he doesn’t usually initiate it. He knows Race isn’t the same, although usually Race’s high touch tendencies get directed at Jack since, again, it’s one of the things they share in common.

(The fact that Race and Jack’s body language around each other had never really changed after they broke up was actually one of the reasons Jack’s last girlfriend broke up with him.)

Absent Jack, apparently that left Spot to be the target of Race’s – Raceness.

Spot kind of wishes he could be annoyed about it, but the tiny fragment of him that’s missing his brother already is taking comfort from the contact.

And _that’s_ why they’re living together, he supposes.

\--

There’s a big freshman orientation thing a few days before the semester’s due to start, and it’s the first significant time that Race and Spot have spent apart since they left home last week. Race isn’t ashamed to admit how glad he is to have somebody else he knows here, but he and Spot are in very different majors so they understandably aren’t remotely in the same group for this day.

Race has made quick friends with one of the girls in his group, Margot, because that’s what Race does, but he’s glad when he locks eyes with Spot across the crowd at the afternoon’s club fair.

“Oh, hey, my roomie!” Race says. He waves to Spot, gesturing for him to come their way.

Spot’s shoulders sag with relief, and he pulls away from the slightly forced-looking conversation he’s involved in to move toward Race. Race throws an arm around his shoulders. Spot’s a little less than six inches shorter than Race, and it puts his shoulders at exactly the right height for him to nestle neatly into Race’s armpit when they stand like this. It makes him a ridiculously satisfying person for Race to drape himself across.

“Hey Racer,” says Spot, leaning into Race’s hold. “You saved me, man. One of the guys in my group was talking my ear off about Cars. But not _cars_ , you know? That Pixar movie.”

Race laughs. “For real?”

“Lightning Mc-fucking-Queen and all!” Spot says, smiling. It’s not a huge grin or anything, but it’s about as genuine a smile as Race ever sees from him.

“You wanna check out the club fair together?” asks Race. Spot shrugs under his arm. It’s not a no. Race looks at his new friend. “We’re gonna split. Nice talkin’ to ya, Margot.”

They break away from Race’s group.

“You know, we didn’t have to split from your new pals,” says Spot.

Race shakes his head. “Nah, man, I can only take so many hours of STEM folks.”

“You are a STEM folks,” Spot says.

“Details, baby,” says Race.

Spot rolls his eyes and pushes Race off of him. “Do you actually wanna join any clubs, Race, or are you just hoping there will be candy at the tables?”

“Those things are not mutually exclusive,” Race points out. “Like, I don’t _need_ to find a club to join right now, y’know, but if something really speaks to me maybe I’ll join. Otherwise I’m in it for the candy. What about you?”

“I’m not really a club guy,” says Spot.

Race elbows him. “Maybe we’ll find something that calls to both of us, eh?”

“Whatever you say, Racer,” Spot says, rolling his eyes.

They don’t find a club that catches either of their eyes, but they wander between the booths picking up candy and freebies and at one point stopping to make “wands” out of pencils covered in hot glue in interesting patterns at the Harry Potter club booth. Race takes his very seriously, taking full advantage of the multiple shades of brown paint and channeling his inner Jack. Spot’s has some naked spots because he chooses one of the shades at random and paints for about thirty seconds.

Race snaps a picture of them and sends it to Jack.

_To: Cowboy_

_[PHOTO] look I made a masterpiece!_

_Spot participated_

Spot elbows Race when he shows him the message. “I wasn’t even gonna do one.”

“Exactly,” says Race. “So I made a masterpiece, and you participated. Your mama would be so proud, you don’t ever participate in shit.”

“I participate in all the bullshit Jack drags us into,” Spot replies, rolling his eyes.

“That is the worst possible thing to participate in,” Race points out. “Jack’s a bad influence, per my mother. He made me jump off a roof that one time and turned me gay.”

Spot snorts. “You did both of those things all on your own.”

“Yeah, well, tell that to Dana Higgins,” says Race.

“If I ever talk to Dana again all I’m gonna tell her is to fuck the hell off,” Spot says, his tone vicious.

Race is honestly touched – he and Spot might’ve requested to be roommates, but they’ve never been close. Mostly Race is friendly with Spot because he’s Jack’s brother and about their same age, but here’s Spot clearly pissed as hell on Race’s behalf. He’d known Spot knew what his deal is, everybody in their little group knows, but he didn’t realize Spot _cared_.

“Spot –“

“What’d’ya think I was gonna say, Racer?” says Spot, raising an eyebrow. “Ain’t like you don’t know Dana’s a bitch.” He slips an arm around Race’s waist for a moment, tugging him into a walking half hug. “S’good you got out with Denton.”

He releases Race again so fast he almost thinks he’s imagined it. “Yeah, Spot. Thanks.”

“Sorry,” Spot says. He runs a hand through his hair. “So, uh, clubs?”

“Clubs,” agrees Race. The moment fully passes, and they don’t talk about it again.

\--

Spot and Race had a few classes together in high school, but it doesn’t really occur to Spot until they’re sharing a college dorm that he’s never really seen Race _work_.

They’re sitting in their room, both quietly focused. Spot’s working on a math assignment, and if he knows _one goddamn thing_ about his future it’s that he’s not going to be a math teacher. He gets math, but it’s like pulling teeth.

Spot looks up at Race, a question on his lips about the problem he’s working on, but it dies in his throat when he actually lays eyes on Race. The younger boy is focused in a way Spot has never seen him in the four years they’ve known each other. Race is perched on the other bed, with his laptop open and a book in his lap. His tongue is poking out of his mouth and his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration.

Like he senses Spot staring, Race looks up.

“Is there something on my face?”

“Concentration,” Spot says flatly.

“Yeah, well, _Devil in the White City_ is kicking my ass,” says Race, rolling his eyes. “You read this book, man? I really wanna be into it because you know how much I dig a good serial killer –“

“I did not, but thanks,” Spot interrupts.

“But, like, there’s a reason I’m studying astrophysics and not, like, architecture history,” finishes Race.

“I’m sorry, what the _hell_ is that book about?” Spot is baffled. “I figured the fair, because the White City, but –“

“No, yeah, it is,” Race says. He snaps the book shut and sets it aside, turning to face Spot. “It’s, like, alternating between architectural firms and H. H. Holmes though.”

“What the fuck.”

“I know.” Race runs his hands through his hair. “It’s kinda cool, though, because the fair is cool and H. H. Holmes is the first modern American serial killer, and it’s _home_ , you know –“

He breaks off, looking down at his hands. They’re both in pretty firm denial about being homesick at all, but six weeks in and Spot knows he’s not the only one feeling it.

“Um,” says Race, “anyway, the text is small and it’s starting to fuzz out, because I’ve been staring at it so hard trying to make sense of the writing.”

Spot has about fifteen seconds to decide how to respond to that. He can call Race out on being homesick and they can be slightly miserable about that together, or he can give Race a mental break and distract the both of them. It’s not a hard decision to make.

“Close your eyes for a bit,” Spot says. “That usually helps when you’ve got your headaches coming on, right? Might clear up the fuzz. And while you gotcha eyes closed, you can help me with my math.”

Race laughs. “Ain’t a bad idea.” He sighs, leaning back against the pillow he has propped against the wall, his eyes falling shut. “Okay, hit me.”

It takes Spot a second to process what he said, because he’s so distracted by the sight of Racetrack Higgins _still_. Race is usually a constant flurry of motion, even in his sleep, but right now he’s relaxed and unmoving, long fingers resting across his knees, head tipped back against the wall with a faint smile on his lips. Not that Spot’s looking.

One bright blue eye opens, peeking across the room at Spot. “Spot? Math problem?”

“Right,” says Spot, shaking the moment off. He looks back down at his textbook. “So, if x equals –“

\--

“This is how I die,” Spot says to their bedroom ceiling sometime in early December. Neither of them went home for thanksgiving, and all that stands between them and home for winter break is finals week and Spot _not_ dropping dead spontaneously.

“Come on, dude,” Race replies, pushing his glasses up his nose a little. “You can’t be dramatic like that. That is _my thing_. Your thing is being a grumpy bitch every time I try to get you out of the dorm.”

“I can and I am,” says Spot. “What’cha gonna do about it?”

Race considers this for a moment.

He and Spot are friends, much better friends now than they were when they left home in August. As Spot’s friend, Race considers it his god-given duty to keep Spot from self destructing over his dumb math class. At least, Race _thinks_ it’s the math class right now – yesterday he agonized for an hour over the best way to phrase the conclusion of his last essay for his English class. But it’s late, so late Race has already taken out his contacts even though he’s not even halfway done with his homework. There’s not much Race _can_ do right now.

He closes his laptop and kicks his textbook away from him down the bed. And then, with all the grace and not inconsequential leg strength that twelve years of dance classes have burned into him, he launches himself from his own bed across to Spot’s.

“This!”

“Ah, Racer, what the fuck!” Spot squawks as Race’s weight hits him. “You just tryin’ to kill me faster?”

“I’m distracting you,” says Race, pushing up on his hands so he can look at Spot, who’s now pinned half underneath him. “And trying to make you smile. Did it work?”

Spot shoves Race off of him. “Well, I’m sure as hell distracted.”

“Hell yeah,” says Race. He rolls onto his side next to Spot. There’s a textbook under his hip. He studies Spot’s face – the older boy is glaring at him, but it’s with a familiar kind of fond exasperation rather than actual annoyance. “I see you fighting back a smile, Spotty. I’m callin’ that a win.”

“What _ever_ , Race,” says Spot, rolling his eyes. “Get outta my face. Hell, get outta my bed.”

Race laughs, slipping easily off the side of the mattress. “You know, Spot, some people are just about _dying_ to get me in their beds.”

“Just because my brother wanted to fuck you doesn’t mean I do.”

“I’m _wounded_ ,” Race jokes. He ignores the slight tightening feeling in his chest telling him he is, actually, a tiny bit disappointed. There’s no reason for that – Spot’s just playing along, it was Race’s joke in the first place. He doesn’t _actually_ want –

(It wouldn’t matter, anyway. Spot doesn’t go for guys.)

“I’m sure you’ll get over it,” says Spot, rolling his eyes. “Though it’s easier to get somebody into you by battin’ those pretty eyes at ‘em, ‘stead’a hurling your entire body weight at ‘em without warning.” He laughs. Spot never used to laugh fully, Race realizes, but he laughs all the time now. “Fuck, dude, you’re heavier than you look.”

“S’like I keep tellin’ you, Spotty,” Race says, firmly ignoring _pretty eyes_ and what it’s doing to that tight feeling he was ignoring already, “I may be skinny, but I am _all muscle_. I’m dense, y’know?”

“You’re definitely dense,” says Spot, but in a teasing tone that suggests _thick headed_ rather than heavy.

Race sticks his tongue out, rather than answering. He’s suddenly feeling really tired – or, at least, feeling like he would really like to turn the lights off and stop looking at Spot for a few hours.

“Hey, I’m callin’ it a night,” Spot says, like he’s read Race’s mind. “You still need the lights?”

“Nah,” says Race. He moves his books and computer off of the bed and onto his desk. “I was just thinkin’ the same thing. I’m gonna go brush my teeth.”

Race does brush his teeth, but he also stares into the eyes of his reflection and tells it off for falling for any guy he feels a connection with. That’s Jack’s deal, Race should be a little more levelheaded than that.

But, like, can he really be blamed? He’s seventeen, he’s rooming with his (rapidly becoming _best_ ) friend, and said friend happens to check all the boxes for Race to be attracted to – witty, smart, cute, muscular, gives Race the time of day – without any of the reasons he didn’t work out with Jack. All the ways he and Jack were too similar to function are the ways Spot is different to Race, an easy counterbalance as they navigate the strange waters of college.

He takes a deep breath. He doesn’t want to date Spot, he needs Spot as a friend too much to risk that on giving in to some stupid crush.

“Did you forget how to do it?” Spot teases, coming into the bathroom with his own toothbrush in hand.

“What?”

“You’re just, like, staring at your reflection with your toothbrush in your hand. Did you forget how to brush your teeth or something?”

“Huh?” says Race. “Oh, no. I already did, I was just – thinking.”

“Yeah, I can smell the smoke,” Spot replies. “Dude, your brain is clearly fried. Go get some sleep.”

“Yeah.”

\--

Winter break is the first real breather Spot gets from Race since the semester started. He’s finding he minds living in Race’s pocket a lot less than he expected to, and he really does enjoy Race’s company, but the idea of a little bit of actual peace is pretty nice.

That’s not to say that he won’t see Race at all, because all Race would talk about on the flight home was how much he’d missed Jack and Crutchie, and if he was hanging out with Jack and Crutchie he’d be hanging out with Spot almost for sure. Such is sharing a house with Jack Kelly.

Still, the small break he’s getting is good. It helps him clear his head a little. He spends time with Smalls and his mother, catching them up on what’s been going on in his life while he’s been gone, and –

“Any girls catch your eye?” Medda asks, a playful smile on her lips. Smalls giggles.

“No,” Spot replies.

“Any boys?” Medda amends. “You know we’ll love you no matter what.”

“I know, Mama,” says Spot. God knows Jack has tested that limit enough for the three of them. “No boys, though. I’m trying to ease in, we haven’t been socializing much. Mostly I just stick to Racer.”

Medda must catch the half second’s hesitation before the last sentence, because she raises an eyebrow, but fortunately doesn’t comment. The last thing Spot needs is to be called out on his weird half-crush on his brother’s best friend.

(His own best friend, too, now.)

Jack hosts New Year’s, which means that Spot spends the night on the couch in their finished basement drinking with Jack’s friends. He’s not sure where the alcohol came from, but he knows Medda knows it’s here – she’s very much a ‘make bad decisions where I can keep an eye on you if things go wrong’ parent.

He’s curled in the corner of the big couch, one knee up to his chest and the other leg tucked underneath him. Race is perched on the back of the couch behind him, his legs bracketing either side of Spot. Race isn’t paying a lick of attention to Spot, focused on Jack and his latest boyfriend being _way_ too in each other’s business for polite company (or even this company) rather than the fact that the bare skin of his lower legs is in full contact with the bare skin of Spot’s arms.

Because, yeah, Spot’s wearing a sleeveless shirt, but Race is wearing _shorts_. In the middle of a goddamn Chicago winter.

God, Spot needs to focus on something else.

Crutchie flops onto the couch next to him, and Spot gratefully latches onto the opportunity to have a conversation and ignore his current proximity to Race. They talk about college and how Crutchie’s senior year is going, about TV shows Crutchie is watching that Spot has fallen behind on, about how obnoxious Jack and Romeo are being right now. Crutchie doesn’t point out how much more physically comfortable Spot is with Race now than he was before, and Spot doesn’t thank him for not bringing it up but it’s a near thing.

Midnight rolls around and Race slides down from the back of the couch. He twists to the side a little so he lands on the cushion next to Spot, one of his legs wrapped around Spot’s back and the other laying across Spot’s lap.

“Here’s to a new year, eh, Spotty?” Race says, and Spot can smell the alcohol on his breath.

“Happy new year, Race,” replies Spot.

Race leans forward and presses a kiss to Spot’s cheek. He clumsily pats Spot’s shoulder after. “You’re my best friend, y’know.”

Spot sighs. “Don’t let Jackie hear you say that.” He picks his hand up to – _something._ He’s not sure what he means to do with it, but whatever it is doesn’t happen and his hand just falls back onto Race’s shin. “But you’re mine, too.”

The grin Race gives him for that is going to carry Spot through the rest of the school year, he’s sure of it.

\--

Spot _insists_ that they don’t do anything special for his birthday. Nineteen is hardly a milestone.

Still, Race can’t just let it go unacknowledged. They don’t go out or anything, but Race bursts into their dorm room at five o’clock after his last class with all the energy that would usually go into planning a party. “Happy birthday, Spot!”

“Thanks, Race,” Spot says, not even looking up from his homework. “You already wished me a happy birthday, though.”

“Well, yeah,” says Race. It was the first thing he’d said to Spot this morning when they got up. “But it bears repeating. Anyway, I’ve got something for you!”

“Race –“

“It’s not a present,” Race says quickly.

Spot leans back in his chair, looking up at Race. He bounds the last few steps into the room. “Alright, what is it?”

Race brings his surprise around from behind him – a single cupcake from the bakery they like just off campus. It’s in a little plastic box, which has been opened once since it was presented to him at the bakery so that he could press a cheap plastic snowflake ring into it like it’s a kid’s grocery store cupcake. The box is clear, though, and despite Race’s addition he can tell that Spot recognizes the cupcake’s origins.

“No candle, of course,” says Race. “So I got one of those 25 cent vending machine rings from those little bubble capsules to make it feel like an authentic birthday party experience instead.”

Spot laughs, that slightly startled laugh of his that Race cannot get enough of hearing. “Thanks, Racer. You really didn’t have to.”

Race sets the cupcake on Spot’s desk in front of him and crawls up onto the foot of Spot’s bed. “I know Meds always goes all out for birthdays. Least I could do to give you a little bit’a home.”

“Thanks,” Spot repeats. There’s something Race can’t quite identify in his eyes as he looks at Race, but then the moment passes and the look is gone.

\--

Race is eighteen about a month after Spot turns nineteen.

Spot gets in contact with the handful of friends they’ve made – mostly Race’s classmates, because of the two of them he is by _far_ the more social – and has them all waiting at the restaurant he suggests for dinner. When Race spots them, he turns to Spot with wide eyed surprise.

“Is this a birthday party?” he asks, breathless. “Did you, Spot Conlon, biggest grump I know, plan me a _birthday party?”_

“Hey, eighteen ain’t nothin’,” says Spot, trying to keep his voice even as Race grabs his hand. “Happy birthday, bud.”

Once they sit down with their friends it’s easy for Spot to fade to the background and just watch. Race’s energy is infectious, and while Spot couldn’t begin to _understand_ the argument he’s having with one of his friends about black holes, it’s hard not to be caught up in the whirlwind of it.

When dinner’s done, Spot pays for Race. This little shindig was his idea, after all, and his gift to his friend. No way in hell he’s letting Race pay for his own dinner.

They walk back to their dorm with Race’s arm draped across Spot’s shoulders, Spot tucked into his side the way Race likes.

“Thanks, again,” Race says quietly. “It really means a lot to me that you put that together.”

“You’re my best friend,” says Spot, shrugging. “It wasn’t any trouble.”

“You hate planning shit like that.”

“You love parties, Racer. No way I was gonna let you not have one for your eighteenth birthday.”

“Still,” says Race. His voice is a little distant, and he squeezes Spot a little closer to him. “Don’t think it doesn’t mean the world, Spotty.”

“I do what I can,” Spot says. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.”

\--

The rest of second semester passes without any particular incident, and before Race knows it they’re packing to go home.

“Hey, Spotty?” he asks, looking up from his suitcase. “I’m real glad we lived together this year.”

“Me too, Race,” Spot replies. “You down to do it again next year?”

Race lets out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. “Yeah, for sure.” He pauses, trying to refocus on folding his shirts. “Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me,” says Spot. “S’as much for me as you. Ain’t like I’ve got a lot of other friends here.”

“Sure you do,” says Race.

“You’re my best one.”

“Same.”

“I’m glad we were in this together,” Spot says. Race steals a glance at him; he’s fully stopped packing, instead sitting on the edge of his stripped bed. “Like, I’d’a been fine if I’d come someplace I didn’t know anybody, and I know you would’a been, too, but –“ he sighs. “It’s nice I wasn’t alone.”

“Yeah, I feel ya,” says Race. He sits back on his heels. “You know what’s wild?”

“What?”

“Won’t just be us in college next year,” Race says. He gestures vaguely eastward. “I mean, none of our friends are coming here, but like – Jack and Crutchie and them are all gonna be in college, too. We’re, like, adult friends now.”

Spot snorts. “I’ll believe you and Jackie are adults when I see it.”

Race throws a shirt at him. “Hey, I’m an adult! I’m eighteen!”

“That’s a technicality,” says Spot, balling the shirt up and throwing it back.

Eventually, despite the break for a clothes fight, they do finish getting packed and shove all their stuff into the back of Spot’s car. It’s a little more haphazard than when they drove in, but they didn’t have Crutchie’s weirdly amazing spatial sense to help them get it tetris-ed in this time. Anyway, it’s just the two of them driving home, so they don’t need the extra space in the back seat like they did coming in.

They take the drive like a real road trip, stopping at dumb tourist trap attractions that catch their eyes and detouring to visit a national park or two. Race wonders whether Spot’s feeling the same tension he is – like they’ve reached some tentative balance while they’ve been at school just the two of them, and going home and back to normal for three months might break it.

They’re in a park somewhere in Wyoming, and Spot laces their fingers together to drag Race over to look at something and doesn’t let go.

They’re at a tourist trap in Iowa, and Race wraps an arm around Spot’s shoulders and Spot’s comes up to hug Race’s waist and they hold onto each other until they get back to the car.

They’re about to reach the city and Race knows instinctively that whatever’s happening, they won’t talk about it.

Maybe with a few more months alone – maybe even sometime next year, if the summer doesn’t ruin everything – but not now. Not with Jack and Crutchie and Romeo and Buttons waiting to rope them back into their normal life.

Race looks across the car at Spot, concentrating on the road ahead of him, and it feels like it might as well be an ocean.

He sighs. There’s always next year.


	2. Year Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enter the rest of the crew! This is freshman year for Jack, Crutchie, Davey, and Kath (and Sarah, who does not appear), and sophomore year for Race & Spot!! Thanks to everybody for your kind words on year one, this was a blast to write.
> 
> I've officially decided that I'm going to wait to link this to the rest of the series until it's complete, and then I'll reorder the other stories so that "until we meet again" falls in the appropriate chronological position.

Jack’s excited. He’s beyond excited. He’s barely eighteen and he’s gonna be living on his own, with his very best friend, and he’s gonna be studying art which he _loves_.

It doesn’t matter that he’s hours and hours closer to home than Spot is, it doesn’t matter that he and Romeo broke up over the summer because Romes is going to school in Seattle and Jack’s staying in Chicago, it doesn’t matter that he is less sure now of who he is than he has ever been in his life.

He’s moving into his college dorm, where he’s going to live with his best friend in the world, and everything is going to be great. Jack is fucking determined.

Jack and Crutchie’s semester starts a week sooner than Spot and Race’s, so they get themselves all moved in and then go back up to Medda’s house to help them pack the car.

“The state that this car was in when you two came home in May,” Crutchie says, shaking his head. “It gave me physical pain.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Race says, rolling his eyes.

Crutchie kicks him in the shin. “ _Physical. Pain_.”

“Yeah, yeah, okay,” says Race. “Guy who wants to design buildings can’t stand a little poorly used space.”

“Correct,” says Crutchie. “When it’s time for you to drive back send me a list of everything you need to pack and I’ll map it for you.”

Spot grins. “Yeah, okay, we’ll put Race in charge of that.”

“That is a surefire way to have somethin’ not get done, and you know it,” Crutchie chides. “I need you takin’ this seriously, Spot Conlon.”

Jack’s hanging back, sprawled in the grass by the driveway and watching the whole thing unfold. Last year had been weird without Race and Spot around, this one will likely be weirder at least to start because _none_ of them will be home. At least Jack will still have Crutchie with him.

Spot and Race came home from their freshman year different – it was hard to put a finger on it at first, the how and the why of it, but Race is a little steadier. Spot is quicker to smile.

Jack never would’ve pinned it, but it seems like Spot and Race are good for each other.

(The part of Jack that is already starting to wonder why he can’t hold down a goddamn relationship wonders what about _Spot_ is so much better than Jack; he knows they aren’t involved the way Jack was with Race, but it’s hard not to compare their easy companionship to whatever the hell it was Jack had going with him.)

It’s not too long before the boys are packed and ready to go. Race pulls Jack and Crutchie in for a tight group hug.

“Have a good freshman year, boys,” Race says into Crutchie’s shoulder. “I expect weekly updates on Jack’s dating life.”

Jack makes an indignant noise, but it’s drowned out by Crutchie saying, “Of fucking course, do you think I’d just leave you in the dark?”

Race pulls away, laughing, and moves back toward the car where Spot’s waiting for him.

“Later, boys,” Spot says with a lazy salute.

They get in the car and drive off.

And then, because they’re in college and life is weird, instead of going into Jack’s house (where they are) or walking to Bryan’s (it isn’t far), Crutchie and Jack pile back into Jack’s car and head back down to campus.

\--

David doesn’t really bring much with him when he moves to school. He’s got a selection of his clothes – he and Sarah went through their closet together right before they moved out, dividing everything into _bring, donate, save, toss_ piles – some bedding, and a shoulder bag with his laptop and school supplies. He moves in alone, because the cost of another plane ticket wasn’t worth it just for this.

The door bangs open, which startles David just about out of his skin. Another teenage boy bursts into the room, a bag over his shoulder.

“Oh, hey!” he says, “You must be my roommate!”

“I suppose so,” says David. He stands up, politely offering his hand to his roommate. “I’m David Jacobs, I’m studying engineering. Civil, I think.”

“Bu – Ben. Benny? Davenport,” his roommate replies. “I’m still not quite sure what my major’s gonna be.”

“Benny?”

“Benny,” Benny says, a little more firmly this time. “My, uh, my high school friends called me Buttons, because I’m real good at sewing and fixing shit up, but I wanna try out just being Ben in college, y’know?”

“That makes sense,” says David. “I guess if there were ever a time to reinvent yourself, this is it.”

“Exactly,” says Benny. “Where’re you from?”

“Chicago,” David says. He leans on his bed, unpacking forgotten for now.

“For real?” Benny replies. “Same!”

“Well, Skokie,” says David, shrugging. “Most people don’t know the suburbs, so –“

“Oh, man, I feel ya,” Benny says easily. He taps his chest. “Evanston, my dude.”

David laughs.

“You movin’ in on your own?” Benny asks, looking around.

“Yeah,” says David. “My parents couldn’t swing the time off.”

“Sorry,” Benny replies. “Mine should be up in a minute, they got hung up talking to some other mom about whatever the hell it is moms talk about.” He raises an eyebrow. “She’s, like, for sure gonna try to adopt you for while they’re here. So if you don’t wanna get mom attacked –“

“It’s fine,” David says, laughing. “I’ll probably live.”

\--

They’re only a few weeks into school, but Spot and Race have already fallen back into their study routine from last year. They’ll grab some snacks and hole up in their room together, sitting in quiet stillness on their beds.

It has yet to stop feeling odd to see Race so focused and _static_ , like someone’s pressed his pause button. But he’ll sit in one position for hours, only moving to flip a page or type. It’s almost tense, like if he lets himself move he’ll lose the momentum.

He’s biting his lip, staring down at a page he hasn’t turned in fifteen minutes. Spot knows, because he’s been watching Race the whole time.

(As much as he’d like to say he’s doing his own homework right now, he isn’t; he’s caught up completely in watching Race study. They’d been on the edge of something at the end of last year, Spot knows they were, and summer put them back a few steps but he can’t deny that his heartbeat picks up when he makes Race smile, or when the younger boy slings an arm around his shoulders.)

Race focused is always a strange sight, even after a whole year of living with him, but something about his body language seems off. A little _too_ still, a little too stiff.

“Hey, Racer,” Spot says, not too loudly but it still feels odd to break the silence. “How you doin’?”

Race doesn’t respond.

Spot throws a pillow at him.

“Hey!”

“You okay?” Spot asks softly. “You seemed kinda out of it.”

Race sets his book down, rubbing his eyes. “Yeah, I’m – I think I’m gonna go take out my contacts.”

“Probably a good call.” Spot frowns. “Race, for real. You feeling okay?”

“Hmm?” Race looks at Spot, a little dazed. “Yeah. I’m fine.”

He gets up and leaves the room, pausing to snag his contact case from the dresser. Spot takes advantage of Race being gone to clear his bed for him – book, notebook, and pencil all finding their way to his desk where Spot stacks them neatly on his closed laptop. He picks Race’s glasses up, too.

Honestly, that boy – he’s so damn smart, but will forget his glasses when he goes to take out his contacts just about every single night. Just goes to show being a math whiz and being practical aren’t supported by the same brain functions, Spot supposes.

He puts his own homework aside, too. He’s got some time on these assignments, nothing he’s got going is due tomorrow, and he could use a break. More importantly, _Race_ could use a break.

When Race comes back into the room, blinking sleepily with his contact case in hand, Spot holds his glasses out to him. “Hey, I’ve got two options for you.”

“Where’d my stuff go?”

“Away,” Spot says. He holds up two fingers. “Two options – one, go to bed now. I dunno what’s goin’ on in that genius head’a yours, but I can tell it needs a break.” He taps one of his fingers with the pointer of the other hand. “Or, two, I grab one of the DVDs we brought and we watch a movie together on my laptop ‘till you fall asleep.” He taps the second finger. “Your choice, man, but goin’ back to your homework ain’t an option.”

Race studies him, a faint crease between his eyebrows. “Don’t you have work to do, too?”

“Nothing pressing,” says Spot. He pats the mattress next to him. “C’mon, man, you look fried. Lay down with me, we’ll watch Last Crusade.”

“Okay,” Race says eventually.

“Put’cha glasses on,” Spot prompts, his tone gentle. Race does, then climbs onto Spot’s bed next to him. Spot, who set the movie up in advance, pulls his laptop from the foot of the bed onto his legs. He pushes the pillows up behind them so they can lean against the wall, reclined but not fully laying down.

“Thanks, Spot,” Race mumbles, curling into Spot’s side. Spot lifts his arm so his friend can tuck himself under it. Race likes being held, Spot knows, but is rarely still enough to let it happen.

“Anytime, Race,” says Spot, stroking Race’s curls and trying to keep his voice steady. “Any time.”

\--

It takes Jack approximately three seconds to find his first college boyfriend. Albert reminds Jack a lot of Race, in all the best possible ways. He’s a dancer, he’s smart as hell, he gets Jack’s jokes –

“You still got a _thing_ for Racer?” Crutchie asks, laying cross-ways on his bed with his leg propped against the wall with his head hanging over the edge of the mattress. “No judgment if you do, although if you do you oughtta be straight with Albie.”

“I’m gonna be anything but _straight_ with Albie,” Jack says, wiggling his eyebrows.

“I hate you. Do you still like Race?”

“No.” Crutchie rolls over to look at Jack right side up, his eyebrows raised. “No! For real! I’m, what, three people away from Race, first of all –“

“Five, not counting Al,” Crutchie corrects.

“Five, then,” says Jack. He waves a hand dismissively. “But Race was fun to date, he really got me, y’know? But I know we weren’t really good for each other, so I’m really hopin’ Al’s, y’know, different from Race in the right ways for it to work out.”

Crutchie hums. “Just be careful, okay? I don’t want you breakin’ your own heart again, and it’s not fair to Albert if you’re just using him because you’re hung up on somebody else.”

“I’m not still hung up on Racer,” Jack says firmly. “Betcha he and Albie would get along really well, though. If Al’s in town through Christmas we’ve gotta introduce them.”

“We’d do that anyway, f’you and Albie’re still dating,” says Crutchie. He sighs. “Jackie, you know I’d never judge you, but, um. Albert’s the eighth – uh, ninth, counting both times with me – person you’ve dated in the last five years. Are you, like, doing okay?”

“What? I’m fine!” Jack replies, avoiding Crutchie’s gaze. “I’m just goin’ with the flow, figuring out what’s right, y’know?” He shrugs. “One’a these days, _somethin’s_ gotta stick, right? I can’t be that worthless of a person.”

“Fuck,” Crutchie mutters. “Jack, sweetheart –“

“Drop it, Chuck,” says Jack. He stands up. “You know, actually, I’ve got plans with Albert. I’ll see you later.”

\--

David’s been adjusting to college pretty well, he thinks. He’s a few weeks in and he’s managing his schedule alright and he hasn’t missed any homework yet, he’s feeling pretty good about things.

Even his speech class, which he’d opted to get out of the way as early as possible because he’d been _dreading it_ , is going alright.

Not, like, amazing. But alright.

His favorite assignment so far is their informative speeches – the teacher told them to “choose something you’re passionate about and go wild” and David took the opportunity to dive into the history of unionization and the newsboy strike of 1899. You know, light fun stuff. He worries he might’ve been a little too into it, but right at the front of the room there’s one girl hanging on his every word.

David doesn’t know her name, although he probably should since they did those introduction speeches at the beginning of the semester. She’s leaning forward, one elbow on the table and her brown eyes wide. She’s got curly copper colored hair, and David finds that he’s presenting to her directly, because she’s the only person in the room who’s not just listening with polite attention; she’s _listening_ , because she’s fascinated, nodding along at all the best times.

She’s called up three people after David – _Katherine Pulitzer_. He’s determined to remember her name.

Her speech is about Nellie Bly, and a little bit about women in journalism in general, and it’s captivating. It’s clear she cares a lot about this, and her enthusiasm is infectious. She’s a better speaker than David is, too, so he’s not the only one hanging on her every word – although given the slightly glazed looks in some of their classmates’ eyes, maybe part of that is just because she’s much _prettier_ than David.

But she’s speaking directly toward him, making eye contact, her smile brightening when he nods along.

David doesn’t have to seek Katherine out after class, because she’s standing next to him before he even has all his things away.

“Your speech was amazing,” she says. “I can tell you really care about what you were talking about.”

“Unions are important to me,” David replies, shifting his bag onto his shoulder. “When my dad got hurt on the job a couple’a years ago, all the work his union has done was what kept our family from being completely destroyed; a hundred years ago he’d have been fired and we’d have been ruined.” He smiles at her. “And those kids, the newsies – they were amazing. They had _nothing_ and no support, and they still stood up for themselves. They changed the world.”

He pauses, a little self-conscious. “Obviously you know that already. You, uh, heard my speech.”

Katherine laughs, but it’s not unkind. “No, don’t worry about it! I love hearing about the things people are passionate about.”

“Likewise,” says David. They’re walking together now, down the hall and toward the stairs. “Your speech was incredible, by the way. I’ve heard of Nellie Bly before but I didn’t really know anything about her, she’s fascinating.”

“I know!” Katherine says. She’s gripping the strap of her bag tightly in her excitement. “I’m a journalism major, knowing about all those early women in the field means a lot to me. What are you studying, David?” She makes an apologetic face. “I wasn’t exactly paying attention to the intros.”

“Oh, god, neither was I,” David admits. “I didn’t remember your name until you were called up for your speech. I’m in engineering, leaning toward civil right now but I haven’t decided for sure.”

“Cool,” says Katherine. She stops walking, gesturing toward the second floor door off the stairwell. “Well, this is me. Not to be weird or anything, but you seem like a pretty cool person, and I don’t have a ton of friends here yet. Do you want to hang out sometime?”

“Uh, yeah,” says David, more than a little surprised that _anybody_ would find him interesting enough to want to spend more time around him.

Katherine grins. She digs out a scrap of paper from the outer pocket of her bag. “My phone number. Text me so I’ll have yours?”

“Will do,” David says. He takes it, smiling. “See you around, Kate.”

\--

Race is distracted.

He’s supposed to be working, but Spot just got back from the gym and he’s laying shirtless in bed and it’s not _fair_.

There are a thousand reasons Race shouldn’t be distracted by this – first and foremost is that Spot is his best friend, no matter how hot he is like this, and it’s weird for Race to be attracted to him. But oh, God, is Race attracted to him right now.

And the fact is that it’s easier to handle being attracted to his best friend right now than it is to dig in and try to sort through what classes to sign up for next semester. Fighting off a crush on the one person in the world Race can’t handle being into is definitely better than facing down his future.

“-cer?”

Race locks eyes with Spot, who’s looking at him with a mix of concern and confusion. “What?”

“You completely zoned out,” says Spot. “You were telling me something about one of the physics classes you’re looking at for next semester and just trailed off staring into space. Are you feeling okay?”

“I’m fine,” says Race. “Just got distracted.”

“Do you have your contacts in?” Spot asks. He’s sitting up now, frowning.

“I do,” Race says, one hand coming up almost as a reflex to rub at his eyes.

“Quit rubbin’ them,” Spot says, tossing a pillow at him. “You know that ain’t good for you when you’ve gotcha contacts in.”

“I’m just always so aware of them when you bring it up.”

“Lord,” says Spot, rolling his eyes. “It’s a good thing you and Jackie never worked out, Race, between him drinkin’ paint water and you tryin’ your hardest to lose your contacts in your eyeballs you’d both’a died before the end’a college.”

Race snorts. “Paint water’n contacts would’a been the least of our worries.”

“For real, though, Race, are you feelin’ alright?” Spot says, his tone serious again.

“Fine,” says Race. “I’m going to go take a shower.”

Spot very kindly does not point out that it’s the middle of the afternoon and Race has already taken a shower today.

_Because_ Race has already taken a shower today, he doesn’t wash – he just stands under the running water with his head against the wall, trying to get his head on straight.

There’s no point reading into Spot being concerned about him; Spot’s his best friend, he cares about Race more than Race probably deserves, of course he’s concerned when Race does weird stuff like stop talking midsentence because he’s distracted by how the light is falling across Spot’s muscles. There’s no point reading into him bringing up Race dating Jack either – or, more accurately, Race _not_ dating Jack and why that’s a good thing – because all the ways Race and Jack were bad for each other has been a running joke among their friends since about ten seconds after they broke up.

Still, it made Race’s heart do a funny little flip-flop in his chest, and Race needs to have stern words with his heart over who it’s appropriate to do flip-flops over, because Spot Conlon sure as hell ain’t one of them.

“Racer?” Spot’s voice calls. “You’ve been gone a while, you still in here?”

Flip.

Flop.

“Yeah!” Race replies, his voice a little higher than usual. “I’ll be out in a minute, why?”

“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

(flip. flop.)

“I’m _fine,_ Spot. Now get out and let me shower, would’ja?”

\--

First semester has flown by, and before Jack knows it finals are done and it’s winter break.

Albert’s gone home for break, but he’s only in Michigan and he’s promised to come back to the city for New Year’s. Jack’s dying to introduce him to his friends.

In the meantime, Jack enjoys the luxury of having all of his (other) favorite people home and nothing to do but hang out. He spends a lot of time with Race, who he’s missed terribly, making very bad life choices that would make Dana Higgins’s head spin.

(Jack takes some pride in doing things that would make Dana’s head spin, because he hates Dana. And, to a lesser degree, Race’s father Leo, but mostly Dana.)

Jack sprained his wrist on one of these expeditions – sledding through an area with maybe a few too many trees – but it’s his non-dominant so it barely even matters.

Albert comes up a day before New Year’s Eve, and he clicks very neatly into their little group like there’d been a spot waiting for him that nobody noticed was empty until he was there to fill it. He rolls with the chaos, but has enough of a head on his shoulders to hold Jack back from going too overboard.

He’s tangled up with Jack on one of the couches in the basement, playing idly with Jack’s hair while they talk to Buttons about New York City, where he’s in school. Jack’s a little zoned out, enjoying the moment and the conversation and the easy comfort of being held by somebody he cares about.

Then Jack’s eyes catch on something odd, and he goes completely still and tense.

“Everything okay, babe?” Albert asks, pressing a kiss to Jack’s temple.

“I – yeah,” says Jack. He nods toward what he’s looking at. “Just saw somethin’ weird.”

Buttons and Albert both follow Jack’s gaze. Spot and Race are on the opposite couch, tucked into the corner of the L-shape. Race looks mostly asleep, with his legs in Spot’s lap and his arms around Spot’s torso, using the smaller boy as something between a pillow and a teddy bear. That on its own is nothing especially new, Race has always been highly tactile and his usual favorite target – Jack – is currently more than occupied. No, the thing that caught Jack’s eye is _Spot_. Spot’s body language is more relaxed that Jack ever sees it, and he’s murmuring to Race with a soft look in his eyes that’s something like –

“Are they not normally like that?” Albert asks quietly. “I kinda just assumed they were dating.”

“No, they are not,” Buttons says. His eyebrows are creeping ever closer to his hairline. “I didn’t even think Spot was into guys, but he sure looks like he’s into Race.”

“Weird,” is all Jack manages to say. He tears his eyes away from his friends, looking at Albert instead.

Albert kisses Jack’s temple again. “You okay?”

Jack shrugs. “If they’re dating, it’s weird they haven’t told me. They’re two of my three best friends in the world. No offense, Buttons.”

“None taken. You, Crutch, Race, and Spot are a pretty tight group,” Buttons says, waving him off.

“And if they’re _not_ dating,” Jack says, his gaze trailing back over to Spot and Race for a moment. “Why?”

\--

David spends his flight back to New York trying to read, but mostly failing. He’s excited to get back and start learning again, and even more so he’s excited to get back to his friends.

It’s an odd thing, really. He’d started the year barely socializing at all, and when he did largely only with Benny, but by November he had a whole knot of friends that he spent most of his free time with. (Benny now being only one of a handful of friends, which is honestly kind of more than he can say of his high school social life.)

At the center of it all is Kate. She’s ferocious, she’s determined, she wants to save the world. She’d declared the two of them friends within minutes of the first time they hung out outside class, and that was that. With her came Bill and Darcy and Lila and Madge, and suddenly David had a social group.

A social group he’s honestly dying to get back to. The rest of it, anyway.

“You gonna date Lila?” Benny asks, leaning over the shared arm of their airplane seats. They’d opted to reunite at Midway and fly back to school together, since they were coming from the same place anyway.

“What?” says David, thrown.

“Lie-luh,” Benny says, sing-song. “She’s got a crush on you, it’s _super_ obvious. You gonna do anything about it?”

“You are definitely imagining that,” David replies. He physically brushes his friend off, shoving him back into his own seat and out of David’s face. “But even if she did, I probably wouldn’t.”

“Why not?” asks Benny. “She’s hot.”

“I mean, yeah,” says David. “But that’s kinda the problem.”

“What, you chicken?”

“Kinda, yeah!” David says. “It’s not like I ever caught anybody’s eye in high school, Benny. I’ve never asked anybody out before, especially not somebody like Lila.” He laughs. “Hell, if Lils knew me in high school we’d’a never talked.”

“You just gotta go for it,” says Benny. “If you’re into her, that is. Don’t go for it if you aren’t.”

“I am,” David admits. “She’s sweet. It’s just – yeah, like I said. I’ve never asked anybody out before, Benny. No one’s ever wanted me to.”

“Remind me to introduce you to my friend Jackie someday,” Benny says thoughtfully. “He’s like the anti-you. Dated our whole friend group, myself included. Already has a new boy for college, too.”

David laughs. “Sure. Sounds like a charmer.”

“He’d try to charm you, that’s for sure,” says Benny, rolling his eyes. “I’d say you’re his type, but that’s mostly just _breathing_. His best luck’s been with the smart ones, though, s’why he got Crutch twice.” He frowns. “Actually, maybe it’s better if I _don’t_ introduce you; he’d be all over you. Do you even like guys, Dave?”

“The closest I ever got to asking somebody out was a boy,” says David, shrugging. “But he’s not out, and I’m, like, barely out. So nothing ever came of it, we just sighed longingly from across classrooms a lot.”

“Which I guess makes the question as it relates to Lila do you like girls?”

“I already said I like _Lila_ , isn’t that implied?” says David, rolling his eyes.

“I dunno!” Benny says, laughing. “Not everybody is bisexual, David.”

“People who say they’ve liked both guys and girls tend to be!” David replies, also laughing. “Listening comprehension, Benny, you heard of it?”

“Apparently not!” says Benny. “Okay, okay, so Lila – you like her, but you’re afraid of asking her out. I could help you! I’ve helped Jackie ask out, like, a bunch of people. I’m a professional.”

“You know what?” says David. “Sure.”

“Alright!”

\--

“Race, why are your glasses on top of your head?”

“Trying something new.”

“Is it working?”

“No.”

“You feel okay?”

“You ask me that a lot.”

“I’ve been worried about you.”

“Don’t.”

\--

“It might be a personal record,” Jack muses, tossing an eraser in his hand.

“Five months is not your personal record,” says Crutchie. “I’m offended you’d even say that.”

“You hold the record?”

“Damn straight.”

“You’re gay.”

“Damn gay,” Crutchie says, rolling his eyes with as much drama as possible. “Seven months, the second time. You need a better joke.”

Jack hums. “I find your lack of sympathy for my broken heart kind of distressing, Chuck.”

“I’m nothing but sympathetic,” says Crutchie. “But I also have to bank some of my emotional depth for the breakups where you come to me crying. Incompatible schedules is, like, one of the least painful breakups you’ve ever had.”

“I guess.”

“Al’s still invited to our pizza party next Friday.”

“I _guess_.”

“I’m just saying, Cowboy, I get that you’re bummed but at least it’s not Kara dumping you _at_ junior prom.”

Jack sighs. “Thanks for reminding me.”

Crutchie pats his shoulder. When he speaks, his tone is softer than it has been since Jack told him the news. “It’ll work out someday, Jack.”

“If you say so.”

\--

Race has been staring at this problem for twenty minutes.

It’s not that he’s stuck, exactly. He can see the answer and how to get there.

He is, however, slightly frozen as he tries to work out why he’s even doing this.

\--

The first time David walks into the common room in his building holding Lila’s hand, it’s to slightly excessive cheers and whistles from his friends. His cheeks are bright red, but it’s worth the slight embarrassment. It’s fun.

Lila pops up on her toes – she has to strain a little, because she’s about ten inches shorter than David, but she makes it work – to kiss his cheek. If he weren’t red before, he would be now. That said, he really doesn’t mind. He’s got a fuzzy, warm feeling growing in his chest and he even finds it in himself to give Lila a quick peck on the lips in front of their friends without chickening out.

Kate elbows David once he and Lila find their seats. “Look at you two! Cuties.”

“Thanks, Kate,” says David. “And thanks for introducing us. I’d never have met Lils if I didn’t know you.”

“Thank yourself,” Kate replies, grinning. “If you hadn’t been so excited about newsboys I might never have started talking to you.”

David laughs. “Maybe the real people I should thank are the newsies of New York.”

“Maybe!”

\--

“Hey, Race –“

“Leave me alone.”

Spot whistles. “Aren’t you a pile’a sweetness today?”

“Sean. Conlon. Shut the _fuck up_.”

“Are you okay?” Spot asks, very gently. Race lets out a little whine at the back of his throat.

Spot flicks the light back off. “Is that better?”

Race hums an affirmative.

“Do you need anything?” Spot asks. Race shakes his head. “Is it your head, sugar?”

“I’m okay,” Race says, in this tiny shadow of his usual voice.

“You don’t sound okay,” says Spot. He moves a little closer, perching on the edge of Race’s bed. “Headache?”

Race hums again.

“Is it okay if I touch you, Tones?” Spot says. Race nods. Spot scoots back on the mattress so he’s fully sitting on the bed, then starts carefully combing through Race’s curls. The eighteen-year-old has said before that it helps with his headaches to have someone play with his hair, and Spot has rarely seen Race this in need of it.

“Thanks.”

After a while, Race lets Spot shift him around so that his head rests on Spot’s thigh, all the while with Spot’s fingers running through his hair.

“You been treatin’ yourself alright, Race?” Spot asks. “Your headaches aren’t usually this bad.”

“Dunno what you’re talking about.”

“Tony.” It’s quietly admonishing, but still gentle. “Please be honest with me. I know your headaches don’t get this bad unless you’re not wearing your glasses or straining your eyes a lot.”

“You sound like my – well, not my mom. You sound like Bry.”

“Wow, I sound like an adult who cares about you?” says Spot, still carding through Race’s hair. “Shocker, it’s almost like I’m an adult who cares about you.”

“Almost.”

“You’re lucky you’re sick, sugar, or I’d kick your ass.”

Race hums. “Am I making a mistake, Sean?”

“By not wearing your fucking glasses? Yes, always. Every day of your life that you go ‘hey, you know what, I’ll be okay’ is a mistake,” Spot says, light and teasing. It doesn’t cut through the fog around Race, though.

“No,” Race says, a low whine. “With my life. Sean – _Sean._ Do I hate my life?”

“I don’t know, sugar, do you?” Spot asks gently. He’s still got his fingers caught up in Race’s hair, but his hand falls still. “What’s the matter?”

“I know I’m smart,” Race says quietly, “and I love physics. I love the idea of physics. But I think – Sean, I think I hate it.”

There’s Spot’s real name again – Race has used it four times in the last hour, after barely acknowledging it existed for the entire rest of their friendship. Spot’s vaguely aware he’s been responding in kind. This time he does it on purpose.

“It’s okay if you do, Tony,” Spot replies. “You’re eighteen, you don’t have to have everything worked out yet.”

“But everybody wants me to have everything worked out!” says Race. He sits up – definitely a little too fast, if the wince is any indication – looking at Spot with something desperate in his eyes. “Bryan is always talking about how proud he is that I’m doing something with my smarts and – and all our high school teachers and –“

“Tony,” Spot cuts in, bringing the hand that had been in his friend’s hair to cup his cheek instead. “It does not matter one tiny bit what your high school teachers think. Are you happy in physics?”

“I – no,” says Tony. “I don’t even know why, it’s just – it’s – I feel so stuck, you know?”

“I don’t know, because you haven’t been telling me.” He rubs his thumb across Race’s cheekbone, catching a tear. “Look, sweetness, there is no one in your life who would fault you for changing your plan if you aren’t happy, okay? Least of all Bry. That man has done nothing but make sure you feel safe and happy since you moved in with him and Crutch.”

Race nods. “I guess you’re right.”

“What would you rather be doing?” Spot asks. “It’s okay if you don’t know.”

“I wanna dance,” Race says. It’s almost immediate, and Spot can tell he’s given it a lot of thought lately. “Or, like. Teach little kids to dance, you know?”

“Why not?” says Spot. “You’d be amazing with little kids, sugar.”

“You think?”

“Hell yeah.”

Race scoots a little closer and collapses into Spot’s arms. Spot is pretty sure he’s crying; at the very least he’s not breathing evenly.

“Racer?” Spot says gently, running one hand up and down Race’s back.

“Tony.”

“What?”

“You were calling me my name before,” Race says. He pushes off of Spot’s chest just enough to meet his eye. He’s definitely been crying – now he’s pulled away Spot can feel the damp spot on his shirt – his eyes are red and puffy and glassy with tears. “Spot – _Sean_. I don’t wanna be Race anymore.”

“Okay,” says Spot. “Can I ask why, Tones?”

“Racetrack is – is the dumb kid who’s been skating by on being secretly smart his whole life, who gets into trouble with Jack,” Race – Tony says. “I can’t be that kid forever, Sean.”

“Who’s Tony, then?”

“I don’t know,” Tony admits. “But I think I want to find out.”

“Okay, sugar.” Spot runs a hand through his hair. “Okay. Any other crises?”

“My head still really fuckin’ hurts, Spot,” Tony whines.

Spot chuckles, pulling Tony a little closer. “Oh, sweetness, _that_ I think I might actually be able to help with.”

\--

“Do you want to be in the exes club?” Crutchie asks Albert over pizza.

“The _what_?” replies Albert, raising an eyebrow.

Crutchie laughs. “The groupchat with our friends. Since Jack doesn’t know how to make friends without dating them.”

“I have friends!” Jack protests pointlessly. “Normal friends!”

“Like three,” says Crutchie. “So, Albo. Exes club?”

“Sure, why the hell not.”

Crutchie pulls his phone out and goes into the group chat, adding Albert’s contact to the list.

_JACK’S EXES CLUB_

_Crutchie <3: This is a test text, to see if Albo’s getting messages :) Tell him who you are so he can save your contact!_

_Albert: I got it, thanks, crutch!_

_Racetrack: Aw, man, already? (race!)_

_Me: like a month ago, bro_

_Me: I know Crutchie updates you_

_Spotty boy: damn. Well, welcome Albert. (Spot)_

_Albert: I thought you were his brother_

_Spotty boy: we only have one gc_

_Buttons: hi it’s buttons, yeah it’s weird that spot’s in here but what can you do_

_Romeo: if jacky knew how to make friends w/o making out with them first maybe less of his friends would be his exes and we’d have a diff name for the chat_

_Romeo: but he doesn’t so we don’t_

_Romeo: this is Romeo btw :) I think technically you’re his rebound from me!_

_Me: Romes I hate u_

_Romeo: <3 <3 <3_

_\--_

David and Lila last most of the semester, which impresses David more than anybody else. It’s early May when she looks at him with a sad little frown and says she thinks it’d be better if they see other people.

“You don’t seem too broken up about this,” Kate says, leaning into David’s side on the common room couch.

“Is it terrible to say that I’m not?” replies David. Kate raises her eyebrows, and David shrugs. “I never really expected it to be _the one_ , you know? I like Lils a lot, but there’s – I don’t know. Most people’s first relationships aren’t their only ones.”

“That’s an interesting line of thought.”

“Well, maybe it’s because thinking about it any other way is sad.”

“You’re allowed to be sad,” Kate points out. “You just got dumped!”

David smiles at her. “And now I have a friend comforting me. Which means I’m also allowed to feel a little better.”

Kate puts her head on David’s shoulder. “Last time somebody broke up with me, I was devastated. And Bill was out of town visiting Darce – I was on my own.”

“I’m sorry to hear that, Katie-mine,” David says. He slips an arm around her shoulders. “Anybody who’d give you up is a fool.”

Kate laughs. “If you say so, Day.”

“I do,” David says.

“I could more than say the same for you,” says Kate. “Lila doesn’t know what she’s missing.”

“Lila knows exactly what she’s giving up,” says David. “Between the two of us, I think it’s possible knowing what I’m like is the reason she left me.”

“Never,” Kate replies. She puts a hand on David’s knee. “You know, I’m glad I met you. You’re a great guy.”

“I’m glad I met you, too, Katie.”

\--

Tony frowns down at his suitcase. It feels oddly like this time last year, he feels on the edge of something important.

He’s not letting it slip through his fingers this time.

“Hey, Tones?” Spot asks, tossing a shirt at him. “Do you still want me to call you Tony at home? Or –“

“Race,” Tony replies firmly. “I don’t want – I don’t want them to know how hard this year was on me.”

“Okay, sugar,” says Spot.

There’s a flutter in Tony’s chest at the pet name. He’s given up on trying to tamp it down. After everything this year has thrown at him, he’s tired of pretending.

“Are you still going to call me sugar back home?” Tony asks, his heart in his throat. “And sweetness? And –“

“Do you want me to?” Spot asks. He sounds a little off, too. “To call you pet names and hold you and – Tony, what do you want from me?”

Tony turns around. “What do you want to give me?”

He doesn’t know what Spot sees in his eyes, but whatever it is it must be captivating, because all Spot seems able to do is stare into them.

“You’ve got to know by now you’ve got my heart, Sean,” Tony says softly. “I don’t need _anything_ from you, not unless you want to give it to me.”

“Fucking hell, Tones,” says Spot. He crosses the room in two steps, so he’s standing just inches away, his feet planted firmly between Tony’s. “That’s one hell of a confession.”

“Yeah?” says Tony. He’s breathless, his lungs have completely stopped functioning. All he can process is how close Spot is, how pretty his eyes look even though his face is a blur of double vision even though Tony’s got his glasses on, how much Tony is dying to kiss him.

And oh, is he dying to kiss him.

He forces himself to catch his breath.

“Sean, I am completely fucking gone over you,” Tony says, because if he’s going to confess he’s going to _fucking confess_. “I’m in love with you, I think I have been for a while. And I don’t know if you’re interested in guys at all, let alone _me,_ but you’ve spent this whole year holding me, caressing me, calling me sweet things, and keeping me steady. I don’t know what any of that really means, but I _love you_.”

“Sweetness,” Spot says, his voice low and steady and doing wonderful, terrible things to Tony. He pauses for a long time after the nickname, and before he speaks again one of his hands comes to rest just above Tony’s hip. The other one tangles with Tony’s, and he brings it up between their chests. “I do all those things because I love you, too.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” says Spot, his tone a little teasing but gentle. “So, knowing that. What do you want from me, Tony?”

“I really, really want to kiss you,” says Tony. He knows he sounds a little breathless, a little desperate, but he can’t bring himself to care. “Can I kiss you, Sean?”

Spot chuckles, nodding. Tony doesn’t need telling twice – he crushes his lips against Spot’s. It’s not the most graceful kiss Tony’s ever had, but he doesn’t need it to be. It’s messy, desperate.

It is the best kiss of Tony’s life.

When they separate, Spot rests his forehead against Tony’s. “Sugar, I’m not givin’ that up for the summer. Be my boyfriend?”

“Yes,” says Tony. He presses his lips to Spot’s again. “Absolutely.”

Eventually, they return to packing. But something is different now, and this time there’s no going back.


	3. Year Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to everybody who let me borrow an ex for Jack!

“Hey, sugar, do you still want to be Tony at school?” Spot asks. They’re lying curled around each other in a motel bed, halfway between Illinois and California.

“I do,” Tony replies. He’s spent the summer as _Race_ , and it felt a little like borrowing Jack’s clothes – comfortable and familiar, but ill-fitting. It was a strange sensation, after having been Racetrack for almost ten years and only asking Spot to call him Tony a few months ago. It’s like as soon as he did that, he could never go back to being Race, not really.

“Okay, Tones,” Spot says. He kisses Tony’s forehead. That’s new, too. They’ve spent the summer not _not_ doing this, but definitely being a little cautious.

It wasn’t a secret that they were dating, but Tony’s not sure Jack picked up on it. Spot came out to the boys at the beginning of the summer, his fingers caught up with Tony’s – _“hey. I’m gay.” “hell yeah, welcome to the club!”_ – but they hadn’t been especially publicly demonstrative with their relationship. It still felt too new, still _feels_ too new, too caught up in Tony’s identity crisis and the intimacy of being separated from the rest of their usual friends during the school year.

“What about you, Spot?” Tony asks. “No pressure or anything, but –“

“I’m still thinking about it,” Spot replies. He sighs, turning his head so his cheek rests against Tony’s face. “I’ve been Spot a long time, but I gotta admit that it feels right when I hear you use my real name. Like maybe we’re growin’ outta what we used to be.”

“We’re definitely growing out of that shit,” says Tony. “Out of – of – fuck, Seaner, all of it. Not just the nicknames, but all that – all that – god, I love Jack, but –“

Tony falters. It’s hard to articulate exactly what it is he means, it’s hard to sort out within his own head, let alone make it into comprehensible words.

Spot, as always, seems to be right with him. “It’s okay, sweetness. I got you. We’re not the same people we were in high school.”

“No,” agrees Tony. He isn’t sure _how_ exactly, but he doesn’t feel like the same Race he was at graduation.

“And in a couple of years we’ll probably be new people all over again,” Spot continues. “That’s growing up, love.”

Tony hums, holding on a little tighter. “I guess so.”

\--

“Day!”

“Katie!”

“The rest of us are here, too, you know,” Darcy says, rolling his eyes.

David, who’d caught Kate in a running hug and now just has his arm wrapped around her shoulders while hers is tight around his waist, laughs. “Well if you or Bill had _greeted_ me, maybe I’d have greeted you!”

Benny runs up from behind him, shouting, “Bill!”

“Ben!” Bill replies, laughing. Benny jumps into his arms and they spin a few times, a little wobbly. He sets Benny back on his feet and they both turn to look pointedly at David and Katie.

“See,” Kate says, trying and failing to maintain a straight face, “Ben and Bill get it.”

“Ben and Bill are making fun of you,” Benny says. He squeezes Bill before stepping away. “Hey, Katie.”

“Heya, Benny,” says Kate, grinning. “Good summer?”

“The best, gorgeous,” says Benny. “You?”

“Can’t complain that much,” Kate replies. “I had two dumb rich kids trailing me around all summer, couldn’t get them outta my hair, but –“

“She says that like she’s not,” Darcy says, rolling his eyes. “Did you two see much of each other this summer?”

“Dave is a spoilsport –“

“I had a job at a park district day camp.”

“- so no, not a ton.”

“I wouldn’t have pegged you as somebody who likes kids, Dave,” says Bill.

David shrugs. “I don’t really get people who _don’t_ like kids. They’re just people. Small, still forming people. Sometimes they’re difficult but it’s mostly because they’re still learning.”

“Huh,” says Darcy. “I guess I never thought of it that way.”

“Apparently a lot of people don’t,” says David. “Including Benny, who was on my case _all summer_. Dude, don’t you have any other friends?”

“A metric shitton,” says Benny, “but hanging out with you is so much less likely for me to end up drunk on somebody’s roof.”

“That happen to you a lot, Ben?” Darcy asks.

“No less than three times this summer, dude.”

Bill gives him a puzzled smile. “Were you drinking on the roof or was it a drunk decision?”

“Yes,” says Benny. Kate, David, Bill, and Darcy all look at each other, then burst into laughter.

\--

Jack meets Riley in his film photography class. They hit it off almost immediately, bonding over their shared love of balloon animals. They’re partnered for a project, which gets them talking, and by the end of the class Jack has a phone number and a date on Friday.

“That’s pretty quick,” Crutchie says, his leg pulled up to his chest as he leans against the wall.

“Well, when you like somebody there’s no point wasting time,” Jack replies. He’s digging through his dresser looking for an outfit.

“Haven’t you only talked to him the once?”

“I know what I’m doing, Chuck.”

“I trust you. Just be careful, okay?”

Jack scoffs. “When am I not careful?”

Riley lasts three weeks.

\--

Tony is thriving in his new classes. He wasn’t too deep in his major focused classes last year when he decided to up and change his entire plan, so changing over hasn’t put him too far behind.

Spot hadn’t realized how down Tony was last year until he saw him so much happier.

Some of it is undoubtedly his major, but Spot’s pretty sure that’s not the only factor. Tony’s redefining himself in more ways than just that. His new attitude carries Spot through the semester, too, because even on Spot’s worse days he’s got Tony next to him pushing through.

“Spotty?” Tony’s perched on the opposite bed, his head cocked to one side inquisitively. “Whatcha thinkin’ about, sweets?”

“Tony, I think I wanna be Sean,” Spot says. It’s just this side of a nonsense sentence, but he knows Tony knows what he means.

“You do?” Tony replies gently. He moves from his bed to Sean’s, all big, obvious movements like he’s trying not to spook him. “You don’t have to.”

“I want to,” Sean reiterates. He lets Tony pull him close, nestled neatly under his arm in the easy, perfect way they’ve always fit together. “It’s like you said last year, isn’t it? Spot doesn’t quite feel like _me_ anymore. Maybe if we’d stayed closer to home it would, it would’ve grown with me but.” He sighs. “Yeah, I – I think it’s time for a change.”

“Alright,” Tony says. He kisses the top of Sean’s head. “I love you, Sean Conlon.”

“I love you, too, Tony Higgins.”

\--

“You could use a change,” Crutchie says cryptically, as they’re walking together toward the common space. He introduces Jack to Elise no less than five minutes later.

Six minutes later, Jack has a date.

Crutchie seems oddly conflicted about it – at first Jack thinks it might be that he’s a little jealous, but that doesn’t feel right. Crutchie’s never been the jealous type, even when Jack was seeing Race and Crutchie still had a thing for him. He _introduced_ Jack to Elise, but always gets this odd little crease between his eyebrows when Jack goes out to meet her.

“What is your _problem_?” Jack snaps one evening while he ties his shoes.

“What are you talking about?” replies Crutchie, that same crease in his brow.

“You keep giving me that look,” says Jack. “Every time I go out with Ellie. What the fuck?”

“I was hoping seeing her might help you feel a little better,” Crutchie says quietly. “But you’re miserable.”

“I’m _fine_.”

Elise breaks up with him that night.

\--

David spends as much of his winter break as possible inside. The older he gets the less excited he is over a good old Chicago winter. And with a middle school aged brother who’s been missing him something terrible, he finds his way into the snow more than he’d have liked.

_NEW YORK CREW_

_Me: I will never be warm again_

_Me: I think the slush has soaked through my soul_

_Darcy: Have you considered that you’re being a little dramatic?_

_Benny: shut the fuck, darce. we all know you don’t have any cold tolerance, georgia boy._

_Bill: I have questions._

_Bill: “shut the fuck”??_

_Benny: YOU DO IT TOO._

_Katie: I_

_Katie: Ben._

_Katie: what._

_Me: You are all focusing on the Wrong Thing. I am freezing to death here._

_Benny: if u send me ur parents address ill come over w hot cocoa_

_Me: Benjamin Davenport, you’re a true hero._

_Katie: Bill why don’t you ever bring me hot chocolate_

_Bill: I brought you a coffee yesterday?_

_Katie: Yeah because you HAD TO. Benny’s love for Day is purer than yours for me._

_Darcy: Why did you have to, Bill?_

_Bill: No Comment._

_Katie: Volunteered me to be up at s e v e n so he wouldn’t have to Christmas shop with his sister alone._

_Me: Oh, no. 7am. What a tragedy._

_Katie: to quote our good pal Benjamin, shut the fuck. Not everyone is a morning person Day_

_Me: speaking of Benny, the one true love of my life, he just got here. Later._

“I have a special delivery for one David Esteban Jacobs!” Benny’s voice announces from outside the door.

David is laughing as he opens the door. “ _Ezra_ , it’s Ezra.”

“What?”

“My middle name.”

“Aw, neat,” says Benny. “Mine’s Robert.” He hands David a Starbucks cup. “Your hot cocoa.”

“You’re my hero, Benny,” David says. “Come in, get out of the cold.”

“I can only stay a few minutes, but I thought you might like to see my beautiful face,” Benny replies, grinning.

“Who are you talking to, Dave?” Sarah calls from upstairs. She pokes her head around the wall.

“Sarah, c’mere a second,” David says, waving her over. She comes down the stairs, pausing on the last step. “This is my roommate, Ben. I told you he lives nearby.”

“Right, hi,” Sarah says. She gives Benny a little wave. “Nice to meet you, Ben. I’m Sarah. Tell me truly, does he ever leave his dorm?”

Benny laughs. “Yeah, all the time. You try tearing him away from our friends.”

“Really?” says Sarah.

David elbows her. “Don’t mind my sister, she doesn’t believe I have a social life.”

“I promise he does,” says Benny. He checks his watch. “Dave, I gotta go – meetin’ some’a my high school friends to make bad choices. Enjoy your hot chocolate!”

“I absolutely will,” David replies. “Thanks for swinging by.”

\--

Bekah is an acting major, who Jack meets after a show at Medda’s theatre. It’s the first set he’s designed fully on his own, and he hears her gushing over it to her friend. Naturally, it catches his ear.

“Hey, doll, I’m gonna go sweet talk that gal who’s talkin’ up my sets,” Jack says to Crutchie, walking away with a pat to his friend’s shoulder.

“Go get ‘er,” Crutchie says. He doesn’t even turn away from his conversation with Medda and Bryan. “Let me know if you ain’t comin’ home with me, though.”

Jack doesn’t dignify it with a response.

Bekah is quick witted and funny and a little full of herself but Jack doesn’t mind. He only got involved with her because he’s a little full of himself, too.

They go on two dates.

When she dumps him, he can’t look at Crutchie for a week, afraid of the worry he’ll see in his best friend’s eyes.

\--

Sean and Tony don’t go on a lot of dates, because they’re both busy not failing college, but when Sean does decide to take Tony out he does not do it by halves.

Tony grew up in a Cold Place, so he knows _how_ to ice skate, and he has enough body control from dancing his whole life not to fall on his ass, but he’s not _good_. Sean is skating literal and metaphorical circles around him.

“How do you know how to _do that_?” Tony says. They’re holding hands, and Sean is skating backwards in front of him, guiding him along.

“I had a life before I met you.”

“I met you when you were, like, fifteen! How much of a life did you have before you were fifteen?” Tony asks through his laughter.

“Enough,” Sean replies, grinning. “My first sport was hockey. I think I learned to skate when I was three.”

“You fuckin’ kidding me, Conlon?” says Tony. “How in the fuck didn’t I know that?”

Sean shrugs. “Been probably upwards of ten years since I last skated on the regular, and the last time we went out with our friends you were much more distracted by racing Romeo and falling a lot.”

“We could do this more often, if you miss it,” Tony says. He’s surprised Sean’s never mentioned this, because the motions have clearly come back to him instinctively and he looks like he’s having fun.

“Once in a while’s fine,” says Sean. He speeds up a little, pulling Tony along. “I gotta say, though, it’s nice not to worry about getting checked by Jack or Buttons though.” Tony laughs.

They go out for dinner after the ice rink, and when they get back to their dorm Sean has _Temple of Doom_ queued up for them to watch. Tony curls up under Spot’s arm, his head resting against his boyfriend’s chest.

“You know,” Tony says, “I really love that there’s still stuff I don’t know about you.”

“Yeah?” says Sean. He kisses the top of Tony’s head.

“Yeah,” says Tony. “Feels like I could spend the rest of my life learning about you.” He pushes up off of Sean, turning to look him in the eye. “I want to.”

“What, spend the rest of your life with me?” Sean asks. Tony can tell he was trying to tease, but it comes out quiet and endearingly sincere.

“I do,” Tony says gently. “Is that something you want, too, Sean?”

“It is,” says Sean. He’s studying Tony’s face closely, like he’s waiting for a punchline. “That you proposing, Higgins?”

Tony scrunches his nose. “Don’t call me Higgins, we were having a moment.”

“Sorry,” Sean says, almost painfully quiet.

“It’s okay,” replies Tony. “But yes, I guess it is. I’d marry you in a heartbeat, if you’d have me.”

Tony feels a little bit breathless, but not in the tight, constricted way he used to feel in moments like this. This feels more like there’s no air in the room and there doesn’t even have to be, because he’s got Sean and Sean’s _better_ than air.

He’s aware, mostly in a distant kind of abstract way, that he and Sean have only been dating not quite a year. That this is one of those things most people wait a little longer on, that they’re still pretty young.

But he’s also aware in a much more present sense that a year ago Tony fell to pieces in Sean’s arms and decided he wanted to be _different_ to before, and Sean held him and helped him pick up the fragments of his soul and personality and decide who that new person was going to be. That even before they got together romantically, Sean was his person.

Sean leans down and presses his lips to Tony’s. When they separate it’s just a fraction, with Sean’s forehead resting against Tony’s and their breath mixing between their faces. “You know, Tony, most people propose with rings.”

“I’ll get you a ring,” says Tony.

“You don’t have to,” Sean replies, a light laugh in his voice. Tony’s heart sinks for a moment before Sean laces their fingers together. “You’re enough. Anyway, this is just – just _so_ you.”

“Sean –“

“I’ll marry you, Tony.” Sean kisses him again. “Just tell me when.”

\--

Jack meets Jackson at a party.

They’re drunk, but Jack gets four dates out of a bond that starts and ends with “Your name’s Jack? _My_ name’s Jack!” which he’s counting as a win.

Or, like, he _would_ count it as a win if he didn’t have this heavy feeling in his chest every time he thinks about it. Honestly, maybe things would be easier if he just hooked up with people, but he’s never once not fucking _tried_ to get a relationship out of a connection with somebody.

“You good, Jackie?”

“I don’t wanna talk about it, Crutch.”

\--

“Oh my god, my brain is fried.”

“That’s what you get for engineering.”

David swats playfully at Kate. “Yeah, like you’re doing any better, Miss Hasn’t Slept In A Week Because of Journalism Projects.”

“That’s why we’re doing this, though,” Kate reminds him. “Brain break.”

“Brain break,” David agrees. They’re having a picnic in the park. It’s a little cool for it, the early New York spring not quite on board with their plans, but they’re pushing through it for the sake of the fresh air.

Kate lays down on their blanket, staring up at the cloudy sky. She pats the blanket next to her, and David lays down, too.

“What do you want to do after college?” Kate asks a little distantly. “Like, be an engineer, yeah. But who do you want to be?”

“I don’t know,” David admits. It’s a little bit terrifying when he lets himself think about it. “Get a job in my field is about as far as I’ve let myself think.”

“I want to do something that’ll make a difference,” says Kate. “Whether that’s as a journalist or just in somebody’s life on a personal level. You know?”

David turns his head to look at her. She’s still staring upward, a little unfocused.

“Well you’ve already done _that_.”

“What?” She rolls onto her side to meet his eye.

“Made a difference on a personal level,” David says. “I’ve always kind of kept to myself, and you got me out of my shell and into the world. I’d never have done half the fun stuff I’ve done since I came here if I didn’t know you.” He smiles at her. “There’s a lot in my life I’m not sure of right now, I think that comes with being nineteen. But I’m sure meeting you has changed my life.”

“Wow,” says Kate.

“Yeah,” David agrees. “Wow.”

\--

Jack’s getting a little desperate by the time he meets Maya. He’s dying to make one of these romances work, to last more than a few weeks.

He pushes past the fact that she’s not very nice, ignores the dismissive way she talks about art as a professional goal, overlooks the looks she gives him when he’s a little disheveled or paint smudged.

He can take being put down, she’s yet to say anything about him that’s worse than what he’d say about himself.

In the end, the straw that breaks his back is an offhand comment about Crutchie. He drops her then and there, standing up mid-meal and walking out of their date. Say whatever you want about Jack, but Crutchie is off fucking limits.

It’s only been a few days more than a month.

\--

“Tony, sugar, what are you doing?”

“What does it look like I’m doing?”

Sean leans on the doorframe. “If I knew, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Tony’s sitting on the floor between their two beds, some kind of craft project spread around him. He’s just shy of a center split, with his left foot resting against the leg of Spot’s bed and his right just touching his own while he sketches something on the construction paper in front of him.

“Homework, Seaner, I’m doing my homework,” Tony says distractedly. “Designing an activity for kindergarten aged kids. Don’t you ever have to do shit like this?”

“Uh, no,” says Sean. “Because I had the good sense not to go into the early childhood track.”

“High schoolers are so much worse than the babies, Sean,” says Tony. He pauses, glancing up. “Do you want to have kids, sweets?”

“Yeah, eventually,” Sean replies, shrugging. He drops onto the floor in front of Tony. “Marry me first, then we’ll talk.”

“Yeah, well, I plan to,” Tony says, smiling brightly. “Marry you, I mean. And then talk to you about kids. But, between the two of us, I think we should have one or two. You’d be a great dad.”

Sean smiles at him, a warm feeling in his chest. “So would you, sugar.”

“Hell yeah!” says Tony. He returns his attention to the project he’s working on. Sean leans on the bed a little, watching his boyfriend – fiancé? – work with a soft smile on his face.

\--

“Jack?” Crutchie says tentatively, leaning on the side of Jack’s bed. “Are you awake?”

“I’m awake,” Jack replies. He doesn’t roll to face his friend.

“I heard Donovan didn’t work out,” says Crutchie. He sits down behind Jack, his back pressed to Jack’s. “How are you feeling?”

“Like fucking _shit_ , Chuck,” Jack spits.

“Did he hurt you, sweetheart?” Crutchie asks, his voice gentle. “If he laid a hand on you I will hunt him down and fucking _end_ him.”

“No,” Jack says. “It’s nothing he did. It’s me.”

“What?”

“I’m a trainwreck,” says Jack. His voice is flat. “Crutch, why’d _you_ dump me?”

“I’m not following, Jackie,” says Crutchie. He leans back against Jack a little, turning to look at his face. Jack can see him in his periphery, but he doesn’t meet Crutchie’s eye.

“Obviously _something_ keeps fucking driving people away,” Jack explains, his voice shaking a little. Crutchie should know this, it’s obvious. It’s the most obvious thing in the world. “So what is it that’s so goddamn repulsive about me, huh? I know I’m not – I’m not smart like Racer or sweet like you or anything but – but – I can’t be _that_ bad.”

“Oh, Jack,” Crutchie says in a low voice. He doesn’t say anything at first, then he turns his whole body to face Jack. “It’s not _you_.”

“How could it not be fucking me, Chuck?” says Jack. “How could the problem not be that I’m a garbage person who nobody can ever stand for longer than a few weeks?” His breath catches, and by the time he’s found it again he’s sobbing, tears running down his cheeks.

Crutchie lays down behind Jack, with an arm around his waist and his forehead pressed into the back of Jack’s neck. He holds Jack while he cries his heart out, not saying a word.

Eventually, once Jack’s cried himself out, he rolls over in Crutchie’s arms so they’re face to face.

“Jackie, sweetheart,” Crutchie says quietly, “there is nothing wrong with you. Nothing.”

“Nobody’s ever gonna love me, Crutchie,” says Jack. “I’m trying and trying and trying and nothing – nothing ever works.”

“You are an amazing person,” Crutchie says, his tone leaving no room for argument. “Whether or not you find a romance that works out, you are a wonderful, talented, caring person who deserves the entire world. But you have spent this whole year setting yourself up for failure – getting involved with people you felt less and less connected to just to feel _something_. Am I wrong?”

“I guess not,” says Jack.

Crutchie kisses his forehead. “Take a break, Jack. Take a few months off trying to get a date and just spend the summer with your friends who love you, okay?”

Jack sighs. Summer’s right around the corner, and it can’t hurt to listen to Crutchie. He’s usually right.

And anyway, lately all dating has done is make Jack feel worse. It’s a feedback loop and he knows it – he feels down about himself and whether he’s worth loving at all, so he finds somebody who’s got a passing interest in him and tries to make that work until it inevitably fails, leaving him feeling down about himself, wondering whether he’s worth loving at all, so he –

“Yeah, I’ll try.”

“And Jack?”

“What?”

Crutchie smiles at him, a little sad. “For what it’s worth – and I know it’s not the kind of love you’re looking for – _I_ love you. And I know Race does, too. And Spot and Medda and Smalls. You’re worth loving, okay?”

“If you say so,” says Jack. It’s all he feels like he can say.

“Well, I do.”

\--

The year ends without much fanfare, but for one small thing: next fall, David is going to share an apartment with Bill, Darcy, and Benny instead of living in the dorms. It’s not actually that substantial a change for any of them, since they’ll still only have two bedrooms between the four of them, but David’s excited.

No rules about who can be over when, which means no watching the clock or making excuses when Kate stays too late.

And a real kitchen! David’s missed cooking, and also eating real food.

He’s got his park district job lined up again for the summer, and a promise to Benny that he won’t be as scarce as last year.

Things are looking bright.

“David!”

He turns. Kate’s running toward him, a small bag in her hand. “What’s up, Katie?”

“I’m so glad I caught you,” she says, breathless. “I thought you’d already left, and – I just wanted to give you this.” She holds the bag out.

“What – Kate, what is this?” David asks, frowning.

“Call it a late birthday present?” says Kate. She’s grinning at him, somewhere between mischievous and hopeful. “I know you hate getting presents, but I think you’ll like this.”

He’s still frowning at her as he peeks into the bag, but it’s gone by the time he pulls it out – a book, one due to be released next week that he’s been looking forward to for months and talking about any time Kate will let him, _signed_ by the author. His favorite author.

“How – Kate, it’s not even out yet!”

“That’s why it’s a _late_ present,” Kate says. “My father knows the author, and as much as I hate interacting with my father, I’m not above using his connections to make my friends smile.”

“Katie,” David says, pulling her into a hug. “I love you. You are the _best.”_

“Love you, too, Day,” Kate replies once he’s let her go. “I’ll let you go now, I don’t want you to be late. See you in August.”

“See you then,” says David. “I’ll text you when I land!”

“You better!”


	4. Year Four

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter.  
> It's very sweet and fluffy and happy and it was absolute agony to write and I'm sure you all know why. Now, suffer with me. :)

David goes back to school a few weeks ahead of his sister, so that he and his friends can get moved into their apartment. He’s got a part time job lined up at a small bookstore near their building, because no matter what Bill and Darcy say about letting their parents pay for the place, he’d feel weird not contributing to rent.

Once all four of them are moved in and settled –

“I don’t know why we didn’t just go in on a place with Katie,” Benny says as he unpacks. “It’s not like she won’t be here all the time anyway.”

“Her father disapproved,” replies Darcy, rolling his eyes. “We asked.”

“Betcha _Day_ would’ve liked it if Katie lived with us,” Bill teases.

David’s face goes unavoidably red. “She’s my best friend, of course I would.”

“What’s that make me, Davey?” Benny whines.

“My _other_ best friend,” David replies, his cheeks absolutely burning.

\- Kate comes over and they stay up far too late watching movies and drinking. Bill and Darcy and Benny claim the couch, sprawling across each other.

David’s on the floor, and the longer the night goes on the closer he drifts to Kate. They start leaning against the couch, with David’s back resting against Benny’s legs, but two drinks in he’s got his head on Katie’s shoulder and a warm feeling in his chest.

Kate falls asleep about two thirds of the way through the movie, her head lolling against David’s. He shifts so that their positions are more or less reversed – so that David is holding his sleeping friend and trying very hard to ignore the looks he’s getting from the other three.

Darcy kicks him, hard, when the movie ends. “Wake her, she stayin’ the night?”

“Well she can’t leave at this hour,” David says, frowning.

“Hmm,” says Benny, “so you gonna cuddle on the floor all night?”

David rolls his eyes, but doesn’t give Benny the dignity of a response. He nudges Katie awake. “Hey, sleepy.”

“My neck hurts,” she mumbles.

“That’s because you made a terrible life choice using me as a pillow,” David says lightly.

“I’m sure it’s because I fell asleep sitting up, and not because of you,” replies Kate.

Benny kicks David.

David smacks Benny’s leg.

“You staying over?” David asks, though he’ll argue if she says no. “You’re welcome to my bed if you don’t mind Ben’s snoring –“ Benny kicks him again – “or you can sleep on the couch.”

“The couch is fine, Day,” Kate replies. She swats at Bill’s leg. “Assuming these three get off of it any time soon.”

“Well if they decide not to, you can always have one of their beds.”

“Hey, that’s not so bad.” She smiles at him. “Thanks for letting me sleep on you, Day.”

David is bright red, he’s sure he’s bright red. “Um, any time.”

Benny very kindly does not start making fun of him for this until they’re safely in their room with the door closed tight.

\--

Jack has, he thinks, done a pretty good job of not looking for romance these last few months. He’s just been letting himself have fun with his friends and not worry about it. It’s been kind of freeing.

Which is why, when he asks Sarah out, he figures it’s okay. He’s had his break, and Sarah isn’t like – well, any of his boyfriends or girlfriends from last year.

They meet backstage at Medda’s theatre, on a Saturday morning when Jack is there to work on a set and Sarah is walking through the show the set is for with her crew.

“Who are you and why are you in my way?” she snaps, glaring at him.

Jack holds up a paintbrush and gestures vaguely to the large, rolling set piece he’s working on. “I’m Jack, I’m working on the set, and I am not in your way.”

“You absolutely are in my way,” she says. She crosses her arms. “I’m Sarah Jacobs, the stage manager, and we’re _trying_ to run our set changes.”

“Nice to meetcha, Sarah,” Jack says idly, returning his attention to his work. “Set piece moves the same with me on it or not, I don’t have the brakes down.”

Sarah’s frown, if possible, deepens. “Why don’t you have the brakes engaged? You could get hurt, and I don’t want to have to explain to my boss why I’m losing time to mopping up some dumbass’s blood –“

“Listen, Sarah, this thing is huge,” Jack says. It is – he’d built out a ten-by-ten box with open framed walls, split in two down the middle so it could either be used for scenes on the front porch or ones set inside the living room. “Me losing my balance for a minute ain’t gonna send it flying; it takes a couple of people to move.” He grins. “Also, Medda’s had to scrape me off her patio because I fell off the roof before, I think at this point she’s glad any time I get hurt without breaking a bone.”

“What?” Sarah says, visibly baffled. She’s looking over Jack and the set and then back to Jack and –

“Set’s not goin’ anywhere,” Jack reiterates. “If you guys need to move it for your run that’s cool with me, but I really need to finish painting it before the show goes into full tech runs in like two days so –“

He trails off, and Sarah’s still staring blankly at him.

“Medda Larkin is my mom,” he adds.

“Oh.”

Jack laughs. “So, like, don’t worry about me getting hurt or anything. She’ll probably say I deserved it.”

“And you will, if you keep doing dumb shit like climbing all over rolling set pieces without locking them down,” Sarah says.

Jack doesn’t respond to that, choosing instead to stare at her, grinning widely. She looks flustered and more than a little annoyed, but underneath that she’s also _very_ pretty. She’s probably almost as tall as Jack is if not maybe a little taller with long chestnut brown hair pulled into a no-nonsense ponytail, wearing a black t-shirt and leggings. Her arms are still crossed tightly across her chest.

“Hey, I’m sure you’re _insanely_ busy right now,” Jack says, “but once this show closes, you wanna go out sometime?”

Sarah blinks, a little startled. “Uh, maybe.” Her arms uncross, falling loosely to her sides, and she takes a step back. “I have a rehearsal to run. Stay out of my way.”

“Aye-aye, captain,” says Jack. Ooh, this girl – Jack likes her already.

\--

“It’s kind of a bummer you don’t dance, Sean,” Tony says. He’s stretching in the space between their beds while Sean works on an essay.

“Oh god, no it’s not,” says Sean. “For real, you don’t wanna see what that would look like.”

“But we could duet!” replies Tony, looking up at him. “It’d be real sweet. And you’re, like, four feet tall – I could totally lift you!”

“First of all, shut up.” Sean throws a pillow at him. “Second of all, no.”

“I could lift you,” Tony repeats. “I do lifts plenty.”

“I know you’re hoping I’ll ask you to prove it,” says Sean. “I’m not giving you the satisfaction.”

Tony groans dramatically. “You’ve seen through my plot!”

Sean rolls his eyes and sets his laptop aside. “How about instead of _plotting_ to get your hands on me, you come up here and do it?”

Tony doesn’t need asking twice – he’s off the floor in an instant and crawls onto the bed next to Sean, pulling his fiancé into his arms.

“Will you dance with me at our wedding?” Tony asks.

Sean shrugs. “If you really want me to. No lifts.”

“No lifts,” Tony concedes.

“Good.” Sean shifts a little in Tony’s arms so that he can press his lips to Tony’s. “Now, what else can my gorgeous dancer fiancé do?”

\--

David finds, for a number of reasons, that he’s spending more time with his friends individually than last year. They still hang out as a group as often as possible – more and more that means just in their living room, but that’s kind of the point of living together – but it’s been harder this year to get everybody’s schedules to align.

This means he’s spending more time alone with Kate than he ever has.

(This is the opposite of a _problem_ , because David likes Kate very much and enjoys spending time with her but – well. David likes Kate very much. And enjoys spending time with her.)

“Ask her the fuck out!” Benny says, throwing a slipper at him.

“I can’t,” says David, “I _can’t_. It wouldn’t be – what if it didn’t work out and it made everything weird with our friends? Lila doesn’t even talk to us anymore!”

“Okay, I see where you’re coming from,” replies Benny. “But that won’t happen. You’re way better friends with her than you were with Lila, and even if things went south – and I really don’t think they would, you two are super good for each other – I’m sure you’d still be able to be friends afterward.”

“Oh, are we talking about how David’s gonna ask Katie out?” Bill says, climbing over the back of the couch to sit next to David.

“I’m _not –_ “

“God, why?” Darcy interrupts, flopping into the open armchair. “Like, you’re obviously stupidly into her. Just go for it.”

“What if she doesn’t like me that way?” David says quietly.

“She does,” the other three say in unison.

Bill rolls his eyes. “Straight boys, honestly.”

“I’m bi.”

“Good for you,” Bill says. “You’re acting like a dumbass. She likes you! You like her! Do something about it or stop mooning over her.”

“I –“ David sighs, sweeping a hand through his hair. “You really think she likes me?”

Benny throws his other slipper at him. “Yes! Now either ask her on a date right now or shut up so we can watch that nineties movie about striking children you like so much.”

\--

Jack leans back in his chair as Crutchie comes into their room. “Hey, guess what?”

“What?” Crutchie replies. He flops heavily onto his bed, dropping his bag on the floor.

“You know that scary stage manager girl I met at Medda’s like a month ago?”

Crutchie pauses what he’s doing, looking up from rolling up his pant leg to frown at Jack. “Yeah. Sarah, right?”

“Sarah,” Jack confirms. “The show just closed, and she asked me on a date!”

“She asked you?” says Crutchie. “I thought you were always in her way.”

“So did I!” Jack says, grinning. “Guess she just couldn’t resist my charm.”

“That’s really good to hear, Jackie,” Crutchie says. He smiles softly at Jack. “’Specially ‘cause you two’ve been talking a couple of weeks, so it’s not just outta nowhere like you sometimes do. Tell me one thing though, Jack –“

“What?”

“If this date goes well, I wanna meet her,” says Crutchie.

“Of course,” Jack replies. “I’ve got a really good feeling about her, Chuck.”

“Good,” Crutchie says. He pauses, a slightly pained look on his face. “I really want this to work out for you, sweetheart.”

Jack sighs. “Yeah, Crutch. Me too.”

\--

David is honestly kind of shocked that Kate agrees to go on a date with him. No matter what Benny or Bill or Darcy said, he doesn’t quite believe she’s interested in him like that until she says yes.

(More specifically, until she says yes and then he says _like a romantic date, Katie,_ and she laughs and says _yeah, Day, I hope so!)_

He’s more surprised by how natural an extension of their usual relationship it feels. He’s surprised by how easy it is to let his hand find hers between them while they walk, to smile at her without trying to disguise the warmth that looking at her creates in him, to stand just a little bit closer to her.

They’re walking back to Kate’s apartment at the end of the night, and she’s tucked against his side against the cold November breeze. She’s something like eight inches shorter than him, which means she’s the perfect height to hold close under his arm, her own arm wrapped tight around his waist.

“I had a lot of fun tonight,” Kate says, her head tipped back to look at his face.

“I did, too,” David replies. He squeezes her for a moment, enjoying the warmth and proximity. “Do you – would you want to do this again sometime?”

“Go on another date?” asks Kate. Her grip on him tightens, too. “I’d love to, Day. I really would.”

“Great!” His voice sounds a little odd, his nerves getting the best of him. He’s really, really not sure how somebody as smart and beautiful and –

“David?”

“Hmm?”

“I’m really glad you asked me out,” Kate says quietly. “I’ve liked you for a while, but I wasn’t sure you were interested in _me_.”

“How could I not be?” says David, shocked. “You’re – Katie – I have never met somebody like you. You’re so driven and smart and – and you’re the best friend I’ve ever had. Don’t tell Benny.”

Kate giggles. “I promise I won’t tell him.”

They reach Kate’s building not long after that, and very reluctantly they separate.

“Katie?”

“Day?”

David pauses, gathering his courage. He’s sure he’s blushing, but hopefully Kate will just think it’s from the cold. “I’d like to – um, can I kiss you goodbye? Or is that too much for our first date?”

“I’d like that very much,” Kate replies.

He leans down and presses his lips to hers, just for a fraction of a moment. When he pulls away the whole world seems frozen; her warm brown eyes are staring into his, neither of them seems to be breathing. She surges forward again after a breathless, electric second.

David hasn’t had many kisses in his life. He’d be first to admit it; his dating life hasn’t exactly been prolific, and the handful of stolen kisses he’d had in high school hardly count for anything.

So, with that baseline established, this is by far the best kiss David’s ever had. It’s not perfect by any means – it takes a moment for them to figure out the height difference and the most comfortable angles for their heads – but it’s still _amazing_. When David finally fully pulls away from her, Kate’s got her lip caught between her teeth, smiling at him.

“I’m looking forward to the next time I see you,” David says, and it’s almost hilariously formal sounding after that kiss.

Kate just keeps smiling at him, though. She looks so goddamn happy. “Yeah, Day. Me too.”

\--

It’s occurred to Sean that for all he and Tony have vague plans to get married sometime soon – and they _are_ vague – they haven’t actually told anybody about it.

On the whole, Sean doesn’t mind this; he likes that their relationship is _theirs_ , with no one else but each other to answer to about timelines or commitment. Still, he knows there’d be hell if they just came back from school already married without telling anybody. He’s been trying to think of a good way to bring it up to Tony, who for all that he’s the one who first suggested the concept has not been especially motivated to talk about it as an actual plan.

In the end though, it’s Tony who brings it up, on their flight home for winter break.

“I know we usually stay at school over spring break,” he says, fiddling with Sean’s fingers on the tray table, “but I think we should travel this year. Senior year, you know? And we could – we could go home for a few days and get married, and then maybe go someplace for vacation as a honeymoon?”

“That’s not a lot of time to plan a wedding,” Sean points out. “Only like three months.”

Tony wrinkles up his nose. “I don’t think we need a _wedding_. Doesn’t really suit us, does it?”

“I thought you wanted to dance with me,” says Sean.

“I’d rather dance with you in our kitchen without witnesses,” Tony replies. “You’d be less self conscious that way, and that’s more fun.”

“True.” Sean kisses Tony’s cheek. “What are you thinking, then?”

“Courthouse wedding,” Tony says. “You, me, Medda, Bry. Our siblings. We can have a little party or something after, but nothing too crazy.”

“I love it,” says Sean. “Have you considered how we’re going to _tell_ Medda and Bryan that we’re getting married?”

“We haven’t?”

Sean laughs. “No, sugar, we haven’t.”

They spend the rest of the flight making a plan. That plan goes out the window as soon as they get home, because Bryan and Medda have decided it’d be nice to have a big dinner together and the whole family’s already in one place so –

“Hey, Spot and I are getting married,” Tony blurts over pasta.

Smalls makes a startled sound that might actually mean she’s choking, and Crutchie pats her on the back. Jack looks from one to the other of them looking for a punchline. “Are you two even together?”

It takes all of Sean’s resolve not to laugh out loud and kill the seriousness and sincerity of the moment.

“For like two goddamn years, Cowboy!” Crutchie says, exasperated. “How in the hell did you not know that?”

“Charlie, please don’t curse at the table,” Bryan says calmly.

“Sorry, Uncle Bry,” Crutchie replies.

Medda makes eye contact with Sean. “So. Married?”

“Yeah,” Sean says softly. He laces his fingers with Tony’s on the table. “I don’t have an engagement ring to show off or anything, it didn’t quite feel like our style. But we’re thinking of doing something small over spring break.”

“That’s awfully soon, boys,” Bryan replies. “Don’t you want a little more time to plan?”

 _Or change your minds_ is left unsaid.

“We don’t want to do anything big,” says Tony. “Honestly, we’ve kinda already got the whole thing planned out. Also, we, uh –“ he glances at Sean, who nods, “we’ve kinda been engaged since April.”

“And you never thought to say anything?” Medda asks. Her tone is a mix of resigned and exasperated that Sean is _very_ familiar with but usually comes out when they’re lost in a forest preserve or something else Jack-and-Tony-driven and stupid.

“Sorry, Mama,” says Sean.

Medda shakes her head, smiling. “You’re happy together?”

Tony’s fingers tighten around Sean’s. “Very.”

“Then that’s all we need to hear,” Bryan says.

\--

Sarah is local, so Jack is more than a little excited to introduce her to his friends when everybody’s home for winter break.

Almost their whole high school crew is over for new year’s, because that’s kind of their thing. Buttons begged off in favor of hanging out with some other friends who are visiting from out of town, but everybody else is around.

She clicks with their group easily, like she’s always been there.

“I’ve never known one’a Jack’s _girls_ to fit in with everybody so well,” Romeo says. Jack tries not to look too embarrassed – Sarah knows about his history, of course, it’s not a secret, but it’s still – he sighs.

“Yeah,” Spot agrees, “usually only the guys end up, like. Lasting. As friends or whatever. But I’ve got a feelin’ you’ll be around a while even if you and Jackie boy don’t work out.”

Sarah grins. “I hope so. You guys seem like my kinda people.”

It warms Jack’s heart to see her meshing so easily into the group, especially since it’s a really male-heavy group. It’s pretty much an entirely male group, actually.

But Sarah’s holding her own. Jack steps out for a few minutes to talk to his mother and comes back to Sarah deep in a conversation with Albert and Race about stages.

She’s not taking any shit from the guys, and she’s not afraid of telling them off when they deserve it. It wins her their favor almost immediately.

“One of these days, I should bring my brother along to hang out with you guys,” Sarah says, late in the evening. “I think he’d get along with your crew pretty well.”

“You think?” Jack replies. He knew all his high school boyfriends’ and girlfriends’ families, but that’s the nature of being kids. He’s never had somebody want to introduce him to anybody since getting to college.

“Oh, yeah,” says Sarah. “He’s, like, a recluse though. I tried to get him to come with me tonight but he said he had plans, only I know he doesn’t have any friends in Chicago he still talks to. Except his roommate Benny, I guess, but I’m pretty sure Ben spends most of _his_ time in town with his high school friends, so I dunno why he and Dave would wanna spend another night together when they could be seeing people they _don’t_ live with.” She rolls her eyes. “One of these days, though.”

“I’ll hold you to that, Sarah Jacobs,” Jack replies.

\--

In a nice hotel downtown, David, Benny, Kate, Bill, and Darcy are well on their way to starting the new year thoroughly drunk.

This isn’t a bad thing, since it was kind of the point of the evening.

“ _Ugh_ ,” Benny whines. “I just realized I’m totally fifth wheeling here –“ He points at Bill and Darcy, who are tangled together. “You two are going to kiss at midnight and _you two_ –“ he rounds on David and Kate, “are going to kiss at midnight. And I’m gonna ring in the new year alone! Usually at least I can kiss Charlie!”

“This is your own fault,” Bill says, with no sympathy at all.

“I was not told that I had to supply my own significant other!”

“It was on the invitation,” Kate says, deadpan. “I paid all that money for hand-lettering and you didn’t even read it?”

“I’ll kiss you, Ben,” says David. His ability to keep a straight face isn’t quite as refined as his girlfriend’s, though. “You’ll just have to be my twelve-oh-one kiss. Think you can stand it?”

“ _Thank_ you,” says Benny. “See, at least David loves me.”

“We already knew David loves you,” Darcy says dismissively. “He’s gotta put up with your snoring for _some_ reason.”

“Hmm,” Kate says, giggling and leaning into David a little, “should I be worried?”

“We’re _platonic_ soulmates, doll,” Benny says, grinning. “Dave’s only got mushy heart eyes for you.”

“Oh, good,” says Kate. She kisses the corner of David’s mouth, a little crooked since he’s laughing. “Same.”

\--

“Holy shit, Sean.”

“What?”

Tony, who has frozen midway through a math problem, looks at his fiancé. “This is our last semester of college.”

“Yeah, at least until I end up in some master’s program,” Sean replies, shrugging. “Are you still going to look for a studio to teach for?”

“Probably a couple part time to start,” Tony says. “Al and I have been talking about starting our own, but I’d really like to kind of get my feet under me and see how a business like that runs first, you know?”

“That makes sense.” Sean tosses a shirt at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with my fiancé? When did _you_ get practical?”

Tony laughs. “Sophomore year, sweets.”

“We’re still planning to move back home, though, right?” Sean says. “Or, like, to get an apartment in Chicago someplace, I don’t want to move back in with my mother.”

“I’d like to,” says Tony. “It’s been nice to be out on our own for school, but I couldn’t live this far from our family forever, you know? Especially when we’ve got a kid or two.”

Sean nods. “Good, yeah. We should start looking for places before too long.”

“We’re gonna be college grads, Sean Conlon,” Tony says, grinning. “You and me, married college graduates. Shit! Are we gonna be Conlons or Higginses?”

“I was thinking we could hyphenate.”

“Perfect. God, I love that you’ve always got a plan.”

\--

“- no, I understand you. That makes perfect sense.” Sarah’s on the phone as Jack approaches her, so he waits to greet her out loud, opting instead for a little wave which she returns, smiling. “Look, David, good luck with your professor, but I’ve got to go. No, I – I have a _date_ , bitch. My boyfriend is here.”

Jack snickers.

“You’re the worst,” Sarah says, rolling her eyes. “Yeah, I know. Love you too, bro. Talk soon.” She hangs up, tucking her cell phone into her pocket. “Sorry about that, he’s having a whole thing with one of his teachers. How are you, Jack?”

“I’m great, how are you?” Jack replies.

“All the better for seeing you,” says Sarah. “What’s your plan?”

Jack takes her hand, lacing their fingers together. “Thought it might be fun to surprise you, what do you say?”

“I do love surprises,” Sarah says. She leans down to peck him on the cheek. “Lead the way, love.”

\--

Not all of David and Kate’s dates are big or showy – sometimes they just hole up in her apartment alone for a weekend and spend the whole time tangled together on her couch or her bed watching movies together.

This is one of those weekends, and David is happier than he’s ever been in his life.

He’s making breakfast for the two of them. It’s closer to noon than he’d usually like for breakfast, but he likes making Kate smile more than he cares about when it’s technically appropriate to eat French toast. Kate loves breakfast foods, and has no such qualms about eating them at all times of day.

Katie’s still asleep, or at least still in bed. He’d slipped out about half an hour ago, and if the smell of cooking food doesn’t wake her soon he’s pretty sure there’s a tray in one of the lower cupboards he can use to bring it to her in bed.

He doesn’t have to go looking for it, though, because Kate wanders out of the bedroom almost immediately after he has the thought.

“What’cha makin’, Day?” she asks sleepily.

“French toast,” David says, lifting the skillet to show her.

“You’re my hero,” Kate replies. She comes into the kitchen and slips her arms around his waist from behind for a moment, a casual sleepy hug. Then she moves around to sit at the breakfast bar and watch him cook.

Kate is always beautiful, with her copper hair and multitude of freckles and gorgeous brown eyes, but usually it’s in a very intentional, put together way. Even when she stays the night at the boys’ apartment she always seems to be less disheveled than the rest of them in the mornings. David is sure he’s the only one who gets to see her like this – sleepy, with her hair mussed and an old t-shirt and gym shorts thrown on as pajamas. It’s open in a way she rarely is with others, even her best friends in the world.

David is honored to be the person she drops her guard for.

As they’re eating, he looks over at her and she honestly takes his breath away, tired eyes and mismatched socks and all.

 _I could spend the rest of my life looking at you_ , he thinks. This is it, he knows it. Kate Pulitzer is his person. _You’re the person I’m going to spend the rest of my life with_.

What he says out loud is, “I love you.”

Kate stops midway through her sentence about blueberry farming. “I love you, too, David.”

\--

Spring break is in early March.

Tony and Sean fly home on Saturday.

“Look at you,” Bryan says on Monday, shaking his head with a smile. “When I dropped you two off at your dorm four years ago, I never would’ve expected this. But you’ve grown up so much in the last four years, Tony, and I know that Sean has been right there growing up with you.” He pulls Tony into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.”

Tony is crying, and he’s not ashamed of it one tiny bit. Bryan Denton has been nothing but kind and supportive to Tony even before he took him in, even when Tony and Crutchie were stupid high schoolers and then stupid college students. Tony isn’t sure he’s always deserved it, but he has always, always appreciated it.

“Thanks, Bry,” he says. It’s a little shaky, a little teary, spoken into Bryan’s shoulder. “I – I’m so, so lucky that you and Charlie got me out of my parents’ house. I don’t think I’d be in the place I’m at as a person if you hadn’t, and I definitely wouldn’t have found my way to Sean. I don’t say it enough, it doesn’t _feel_ like enough, but thank you.”

Bryan squeezes him one more time before letting him go and stepping back. “You’ve grown into a good man, Tony. It’s a shame Leo and Dana never appreciated you for who you are, but you will always be loved and appreciated in my house and in Medda’s.”

“You’re lucky I’m not wearing makeup for this,” says Tony, scrubbing at his eyes with his sleeve. “I’m a wreck.”

Bryan pats his shoulder. “I think you’ll be okay. Now come on, let’s go get you married, kid.”

There’s a party afterward, that’s just Tony and Sean and their families and a cake from the grocery store with _Congratulations Spot and Race!_ on the top in blue icing. It’s a fun night, and Tony does convince Sean to dance with him –

“Come on, just one dance?”

“There’s no music.”

“Cowboy! Play something so my husband will dance with me!”

Jack does, and Tony drags Sean onto the patio to slow dance to the quiet music playing from Jack’s phone. The photo Jack snaps is the one they share with all their friends when they announce their marriage.

– and the next morning they leave for their three day honeymoon at a beach resort in Florida.

It’s a strange thing, coming back to their dorm room, which is very much the same as it was when they first moved to school as freshmen. In two months they won’t be college students at all anymore.

“Hey, Sean?”

“Yeah, Tony?”

Tony pulls his husband – his _husband_ – into a hug. “I love you so goddamn much.”

“I love you too, Tones. More than anything.”

\--

Ultimately, Jack and Sarah break up in April. It’s a week before her birthday, which Jack feels kinda shitty about even though she’s the one who breaks up with him.

They part ways on pretty good terms, and see each other just a few days later _for_ her birthday. Things just weren’t working romantically, and that’s alright. Jack’s feeling a lot better about it than he ever has before, which he’s counting as progress.

_JACK’S EXES CLUB_

_Me: hey yall I just added sarah to the group pls dont be weird_

_Sarah J: hi guys sarah here_ _:) I met most of you at new years_

_Racetrack: “yall”_

_Racetrack: honestly, I swear to god cowboy_

_Spotty boy: hello sarah sorry to hear abt your breakup. I’m Spot, dumbass above is my husband Race._

_Sarah J: right! Congrats!_

_Spotty boy: thanks_

_Crutchie <3: I think you’ve got mine already, Sar, but it’s Crutchie._

_Sarah J: I do, thanks_

The rest of the group sounds off, and then devolves into its usual nonsense. Jack has a few moments of regret for introducing Sarah to the group, but no – he really likes Sarah, and he’d much rather hold onto her as a friend if he can.

She even introduces him to an actor friend of hers, Elmer, who he hits it off with immediately. They’ve got a date on Friday.

\--

_From: Katie Mine_

_Are you free right now Day?_

_I have something I need to talk to you about, it’s important._

David makes record time walking from his apartment to Kate’s. Her text worried him, and she refused to elaborate until they were in the same room.

When he gets there, he can tell Kate is a wreck. She looks like she’s been crying, her living room is a mess.

“Katie?” he says, pulling her into his arms. “Katie-mine, what’s wrong? What happened?”

She doesn’t respond right away, just leans into his touch like she needs it to survive. He guides her back into the apartment, sitting down on the couch and letting her curl up in his arms, leaning against him.

Eventually, she sits up, taking a shaky, hiccupping breath. “David – Day, I –“

She falters, reluctant to meet his gaze.

David brings a hand to her cheek, stroking her skin gently. “Kate, whatever it is, it’s okay. We’ll get through it. Just tell me what’s wrong.”

Kate takes another breath, this one a little steadier. She puts her hand over his on her cheek.

“David, I’m pregnant.”


	5. Year Five

“You’re –“

“Pregnant.”

“Okay,” says David. He brings his other hand up so he’s cupping both sides of Kate’s face. “Okay. We can – we’ll be okay, okay? What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Kate replies.

“That’s okay,” David says. He’s painfully aware of how many times he’s said _okay_ but he’s seriously freaking out and doing his very best to stay stable and steady because Kate clearly, clearly needs that right now. “Is it alright if I kiss you? Are you feeling up to that? I can tell you’re really shaken up, I don’t want to cross a line.”

“Please,” says Kate. So he does – he kisses her long and slow and sweet and she’s crying again when they separate. “David, I don’t know what to do.”

“You don’t have to know right now, Katie,” says David. “It’ll be alright, okay? Do you want to go lay down?”

Kate nods.

David leads Kate to her bedroom, wrapping himself around her and holding her tight. He makes sure his arm around her waist is a little higher than usual – resting against her ribcage just below her breasts instead of across her stomach – so that he can cling to her as tight as he wants to without worrying about –

Oh, good lord. Whatever they, whatever _Kate_ decides in the long term, right this second she’s pregnant with his child. He and Kate have talked about their future at length, both before and after they started dating, and he knows better than just about anyone in the world that Kate doesn’t especially want children. She’s got big plans for a career and a life and this isn’t one of them.

David is okay with that. He’s not sure whether she’ll want to go through with the pregnancy, and he’ll support her no matter what she decides, but even if she does he knows that while the little clump of cells currently growing in Kate’s uterus has his genes, it’s never going to be _his_ _child_ in a practical sense.

His grip on Kate loosens a little bit when he can tell she’s fallen asleep. He’s not sure he’s going to be able to sleep for the next few days.

He lets his hand skim across her abdomen. Holy _shit_. This is happening, this is a real thing that’s happening, even though they’ve always been responsible and –

Okay.

Whatever happens, they’ll get through it. They’ll figure this out.

Okay.

\--

“I can’t believe you’re not even staying the whole summer,” Sarah complains.

“Hey, you’re lucky I came home at all,” says David. “Benny didn’t, you know. I’ve got a job and stuff in New York, I can’t just go taking three months off.”

They’ve decided to, as much as possible, go on with their lives as normally as they can. They aren’t telling their families about the pregnancy – they may not have a choice about it eventually, but they don’t want anybody trying to change their minds about putting the baby up for adoption – which means David had to find a good excuse to go back to New York a full six weeks earlier than he usually does.

The real reason is that he doesn’t want to leave Kate for the whole summer. He hadn’t even really wanted to leave for the time he _is_ going to be in Chicago, but it would’ve raised too many eyebrows. He’s not a good enough liar for that.

Sarah can tell something’s up, he knows, but she hasn’t said anything. Nearly thirteen-year-old Les has a little less tact.

“You okay, David?” Les asks one afternoon when they’re tossing a football back and forth in the back yard. “You seem real distracted.”

“I’m fine,” says David.

“You’re a bad liar,” Les says. David misses his next catch and has to go running after the ball.

“I’m just thinking about some, uh, boring grown up stuff,” splutters David.

Les laughs. “Just say you don’t wanna talk about it, dude. You don’t have to pretend nothing’s going on.”

“Alright,” says David. He throws the ball back to Les, then sweeps a hand through his hair. “I am overwhelmed and distracted and I do _not_ want to talk about it and I do not want you to mention it to Mom and Dad, okay?”

“I can keep a goddamn secret,” Les replies, rolling his eyes.

“Les!”

“I’m in middle school, Davey. Middle schoolers swear.”

“Since _when_?”

\--

Sarah’s laying across the foot of Jack’s bed, perpendicular to him, with her legs propped against the wall. “Ugh. My brother was so stupid weird this summer.”

“Yeah?” Jack says. He’s sketching her, more focused on her odd positioning than her words.

“ _Yeah_ ,” says Sarah. “It’s like he didn’t even want to be here! He lives away for nine months of the goddamn year, and he comes home and – and – what the hell does New York have we don’t have here, huh?”

“Less space and higher cost of living,” Crutchie says from the other bed, nodding.

“Exactly!” says Sarah. “They don’t even have the Bean!”

Jack laughs, looking over his sketchbook at her. “The Bean, that’s your big sell?”

“I don’t know,” Sarah says, dropping her head onto the mattress. “It was just the first thing that popped into my head.”

“You had a whole city’s worth of options,” says Crutchie. “And you went with the Bean.”

“What would _you_ have said?”

“MSI.”

“The lake.”

“The lake?” Sarah repeats. “New York’s on an _ocean_?”

“Lake’s cooler,” says Jack, shrugging.

“I don’t think that’s any better than the Bean, Jackie,” says Sarah. She’s laughing, though, which Jack’s counting as a win. She’d been stressed and distracted when she arrived, and she probably still is but at least now she’s smiling.

\--

Theoretically, David still lives with Benny, Bill, and Darcy.

That’s the address his parents send care packages to, the address on file with school. That’s where he _tells_ people he lives. He refers to the three of them as his roommates constantly – especially Benny, who is the star of the vast majority of David’s funny stories.

In practical reality, David lives with Kate.

It makes sense – Kate lives alone, so her apartment has always been the one they went to when they wanted some space. David figures he probably would’ve ended up largely migrating to her apartment this year anyway, since they’re in love but also college seniors, which means they’re busy as fuck. If they want time together, they’ve got to sleep in the same room.

The fact that Kate is pregnant and that David wants to be on hand for her whenever he can is secondary. Important, but secondary.

Also, for all that they’re not telling their families about what’s going on, there’s no hiding it from their friends. Benny checks in on David _constantly_.

“And you’re sure you’re doing okay?” Benny asks, frowning. They’re having lunch together, squeezed between David’s concrete class and Benny’s fabric history class.

“Ben, I’m fine!” replies David, who has had this conversation approximately seventy-three times since Benny found out Kate is pregnant.

“I just want to make sure you’re not stretching yourself too thin,” says Benny. “This is a big, overwhelming thing and you’re putting so much energy into taking care of Katie –“

“I’m not the one growing a person inside my body,” David says.

“I know that,” Benny says. He puts his hand over David’s on the table. “But, like, you’re allowed to have your own feelings about it. It’s got to be scary, even if you two aren’t planning to keep the kid.”

David looks away, not really feeling up to meeting Benny’s eye. “I’m trying not to think about it too much.”

“I can fucking tell.”

\--

The thing Jack really loves about studying photography is that sometimes he just gets to go out into the world and spend a few hours taking detail photos of autumn leaves or blades of grass and not have to worry about anything else.

He’s trying to take this year easy. No romance, just focus on his schoolwork and his work work and his friends.

So far – and at this point they’re well into October – he’s doing pretty well, he thinks.

Jack is lying on his stomach in Grant Park, trying to capture the midafternoon light filtering through the trees just so. It’s rare that he gets a moment of true silence and stillness in his life, so he’s trying to embrace it.

He wonders idly where he’ll be this time next year – will he have found a steady job in one of his fields? An _unsteady_ job? Will he be designing sets for Medda or taking wedding photos?

It’s strange to think that after all this time he won’t be in school anymore, no matter what he ends up doing. He and Crutchie have been talking about finding an apartment together, since they’ve been living together all through college and neither of them wants to move back in with their parents.

Spot and Race are wholeass grownups – they got married in March and came home at the end of the school year ready to start a life together, finding an apartment and jobs and looking into surrogacy so they can have a kid. Picture that – Spot and Race Higgins-Conlon, parents!

Despite himself, Jack wonders if he’ll ever find that.

He’s been doing a much better job these last few months of not feeling like an absolute piece of garbage when he remembers his absolutely horrendous luck with dating, but the thought still crosses his mind now and then. Jack is a romantic at heart, and every failed relationship he’s ever had has just been an attempt at finding _something_ meaningful.

An attempt to find somebody he really, truly loves, who thinks he’s actually worth holding onto.

He’s sure the closest he’s ever come is Sarah, or maybe Crutchie, but even with them in the end it just hadn’t quite been right.

At this point, an embarrassingly large number of people into his dating life, Jack’s starting to lose hope. There’s a deep, painful ache in his chest sometimes when he hangs out with Spot and Race now, because they’re just so –

Something _happened_ when they were away at school, and they came back different people than they started, understanding each other in a way nobody else ever will.

Jack’s not sure there’s a person like that out there for him anymore.

\--

Kate can’t go home over winter break. She’s due in less than two months, and she _looks it_. She never likes spending a ton of time with her family anyway, so she’s begging off of going for Christmas and the New Year by claiming illness.

David stays in New York, too. He argues with his sister over it at length –

“You were gone half the fucking summer and you’re not even coming home for winter break?” she snaps. “Don’t you even fucking miss me?”

“I miss you a lot,” David replies, trying to keep his voice level. “I just can’t get away right now, okay? I got promoted at work and –“

“I can _hear_ you lying,” says Sarah. “Look, if something’s going on could you at least do me the courtesy of being honest about it? Of telling me what’s keeping you there?”

“No,” David says flatly. “Okay? Something’s going on with – with one of my friends and I want to be here for them, but it’s not your business to know and I’m not going to tell you about it.”

“Fine,” says Sarah. “You could have just _said that_.”

“Ra, I don’t want to do this.”

“You used to tell me everything, David,” Sarah says. She sounds genuinely sad. “I don’t know what happened, but you’re so – you’re different now.”

“I grew up, Sarah, and you weren’t there.”

– but ultimately that doesn’t change his mind. He’d rather be here so Kate doesn’t have to be alone. He loves his family, and he does miss his siblings terribly, but – well, he loves Kate too, and Kate doesn’t have anybody else right now.

On Christmas day she video calls her parents, while David reads in the bedroom. Her parents don’t know he’s staying with her, and they’d like to keep it that way.

“I’m done,” she calls. David pokes his head out of the bedroom as she sets her laptop aside.

“How were they?” David asks, sitting down next to Kate on the couch.

Kate sighs. “Ex-fucking-sausting. My father isn’t happy I didn’t come to brunch, even though I told him repeatedly that I’m _contagious_.” She rolls her eyes. “Meanwhile the bean’s been kicking me in the ribs for like an hour.”

“Maybe she’ll be a dancer,” David jokes. He pulls Kate into his arms. “We can gift her parents some baby sized tap shoes.”

Kate giggles. “She’s got the legs for it.”

“Hey, Katie-mine?” says David.

“Hmm?” Kate tips her head back to look him in the eye.

“You’re amazing and I love you.”

“I love you, too, Day.”

\--

“If I have to look at this for one more single second my brain is going to implode,” Crutchie says, snapping his laptop shut.

“Well we can’t have that,” says Jack. He sets his own computer aside. “What do you wanna do instead?”

“Hop in my car, pick up some food, and surprise Meds or Bry with dinner?” Crutchie suggests.

“I’m down,” Jack says, shrugging. “S’gotta be Bryan though, it’s a Thursday. Smalls’ll have basketball and Ma’s probably still at the theatre, they’re doing Midsummer and it’s been six kinds of mess.”

“To Uncle Bryan’s then!”

They show up at Bryan’s door about an hour later, to his not unhappy surprise.

“Hey, boys,” he says, “I wasn’t expecting to see you tonight.”

Crutchie holds up the bag of food they’d stopped for. “We brought dinner.”

“Well come on in,” Bryan replies. “I’m always happy to see you two.”

“Yeah, now we’ve grown out of making a hot mess of your house,” says Jack.

Most of the photos on Bryan’s walls are Jack’s, which is usually a point of a fair amount of pride for him. Still, there’s a familiar ache that settles in his chest when his eyes settle on the newest addition – the whole wall has been rearranged so that this new eight by ten print in its lovely frame can be in the center, drawing the eye right to it. It’s a photo from Race and Spot’s wedding last year, it’s _the_ photo from Race and Spot’s wedding, the only one anybody shows off.

Jack took it, of course. It’s the two of them dancing in Medda’s back yard, awash with light spilling out from the kitchen, looking at each other like the rest of the world doesn’t exist.

It’s a nice photo, possibly the nicest picture ever taken of Racetrack Higgins, who usually makes it his mission to make Jack’s life difficult. Jack’s actually pretty technically proud of it, and it’s in his portfolio. But he kind of hates looking at it, because it’s everything he’s never going to have captured in one picture.

Crutchie smacks his arm. “Hey. Get outta Santa Fe, Cowboy.”

“What?”

“You’re staring at the wedding photo all wistful like,” says Crutchie. He smacks Jack’s arm again. “You will find that someday, okay? You _will_. In the meantime, stop feeling sorry for yourself and come eat dinner, the food’s getting cold.”

Jack sighs. “Yeah, okay. Thanks, Crutchie.”

\--

The baby comes on February 12th.

It’s a girl, and she’s tiny and fragile and red and _screaming_. She calms somewhat when the nurses hand her to Kate, though, blinking up at her with her little face wrinkled up and ready to wail some more.

“David,” Kate says, breathless, “she’s beautiful.”

“She is,” David agrees.

Kate tears her eyes away from the baby to look up at David. “Day, we should – I don’t want to give her up.”

“Really?” says David. He’s feeling the same way, but Kate’s always been so determined not to have kids –

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while and now I’m holding her and I can’t imagine _not_ being her mom,” says Kate. “What do you think?”

“I’m right with you,” David replies. He sits down next to her, wrapping one arm around his girlfriend’s shoulders and reaching tentatively for the baby’s tiny foot with the other, just barely touching her itty bitty toes.

Just like that, their entire world changes.

“We don’t have any baby stuff,” Kate says later, while the baby is being checked out by doctors.

“Darcy’s on his way with a carseat,” David replies. “And Bill and Benny are getting her a crib and clothes. I texted them as soon as we decided to keep her.”

“You’re amazing.”

“I’m practical,” says David. He kisses Kate’s forehead. “ _You_ are amazing.”

“We don’t have a name, either,” Kate points out. “We can’t call her _the baby_ forever.”

“No, eventually she’ll be the toddler, then the –“

“David.”

He laughs. “What, you don’t just want to call her Bean forever?”

“You’re the worst,” says Kate. “The worst!”

He kisses her. “I know.”

It’s almost a full hour later, when the baby is back in David’s arms and he’s staring down at her and she’s staring up at him, both completely transfixed, when it comes to him.

“Leah,” he says quietly. He glances over at Kate. “What do you think, Katie? Leah Jacobs?”

“It’s perfect,” says Kate. “I love it. I love her.”

David’s gaze shifts back to his daughter’s face. “Hello, Leah-beah. Welcome to the family.”

Leah coos, and David’s heart just about melts.

(It’s not until a few days later that Kate shows him the photo she took at that moment, but it’s easily David’s favorite photo he’s ever been in. Even years later, after everything else that happens, he keeps it framed on his bedside table.)

\--

“Oh my god, Dave, did you ever tell your families about her?” Benny says. He’s holding Leah, which means that despite addressing her father, the question ends up directed largely to her, since none of them have yet figured out how to look away from her when she’s in their arms.

“No,” David admits, embarrassed. “How do we even bring that up?”

“Hi, mom, have you met my baby yet?” Benny offers. He shakes his head, still smiling down at Leah. “Your parents are ridiculous, baby girl. Ridiculous.”

“We hid the whole pregnancy from them!” says David. “I don’t think my parents even know I –“

Benny looks up when David falters. “Don’t know what, David?”

“I don’t think they even know I have a girlfriend,” says David.

“Are you for real?”

“I don’t talk about my life that much!”

“You have a _baby with her_!”

“That’s a recent development!”

“She was pregnant for nine whole months!”

“Look, Ben, I know it’s stupid,” says David. “But it doesn’t make it less true. I haven’t been hiding Kate or anything, it just never came up.”

“That’s the kind of information people usually offer,” Benny says, rolling his eyes. He turns his attention back to Leah, bouncing her in his arms a little and getting a giggle in response. “Leah-beah, you gotta promise you’re gonna be less of a disaster than your daddy, okay? Can you promise me that?”

Leah gurgles and gives Benny a wide, gummy smile.

“Leah says you’re being dumb.”

“Leah has better manners as an eight-week-old infant than you do as a 21-year-old,” says David, laughing.

She giggles along too.

Benny shakes his head. “So how are you planning to tell them? Or are you two just planning to wait until graduation and surprise them?”

David sighs. “God, I don’t know. We talk about it every few days, usually when she’s got us up in the middle of the night, but like – there’s just no good way to tell your family you’ve been hiding a whole baby from them.”

“Well, I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” says Benny.

“I hope so.”

\--

David’s birthday is in April, a handful of days after Leah crosses two months old. They have a small party at the boys’ apartment, which is to say that the five of them get together and pass Leah around just like they would any other day, only with cake.

“No, Bean, you can’t have that,” Bill says, gently pushing her hands away from the forkful of cake Darcy is offering him. He takes the bite, and when he’s done with it he adds, “Not for babies, sweetheart.”

Leah coos and reaches for his face instead.

“So, have you two decided what you’re doing after graduation yet?” Darcy asks, dutifully offering Bill another bite of cake over Leah’s head.

Kate shrugs. “I’ve got applications in at a few places, so does Day. We’re just waiting to hear back.”

“Here?” Benny asks.

“Some here, some back home,” David replies. “We’ll see what sticks.”

\--

Kate’s parents find out about Leah in early May, about three weeks before graduation.

They’re in town and her father demands that she comes out to lunch with them. It’s as good a time as any, she tells David. So she dresses Leah in a cute dress with rubber ducks embroidered around the hem, puts her in her carrier, and brings her to lunch with Mr. and Mrs. Pulitzer.

When Kate gets home, she’s pale.

“What’s wrong?” David asks. He picks Leah up, cradling her close. “Did something happen?”

“My parents weren’t – they aren’t happy,” says Kate. “About Leah.” She sighs, shaking her head. Then she shifts up on her toes to kiss David. “I’ve got some things to think about.”

“Kate?”

“I love you, David.”

“I love you, too, Katie-mine,” says David, slightly bewildered. “What –“

“Can we just cuddle on the couch as a family for a little while?” Kate asks. “Maybe we could watch a movie.”

“Are you okay, love?”

“I’m fine.”

The thing is, Kate isn’t fine.

David can tell that Kate isn’t fine in every inch of her being, not just that night but for the next few weeks.

She refuses point blank to talk about it, though, and eventually David stops pressing. Instead he throws himself into trying to help her feel better – making her favorite foods, suggesting her favorite movies and shows, letting her hang back and cuddle with their daughter when he runs errands.

Nothing seems to be working. It’ll get a small smile, a little laugh, and then she’ll fall even quieter and sadder than before.

Still, he doesn’t see it coming.

\--

Jack and Crutchie are in separate graduation ceremonies, because they’re in different departments, which means that they have to sit through two consecutive days of gowns and stages and speeches. But in the end they’ve done it and it’s _over_.

They take pictures together and individually and with their friends, in every place remotely imaginable.

Jack’s favorite is the one where he’s standing between Albert and Sarah – all three of them in their caps and gowns – with the two of them kissing his cheeks. It’s silly, sure, but it sure seems to encapsulate Jack’s college experience. Elmer and Crutchie are visible in the background, both laughing so hard they can’t breathe.

He hasn’t quite figured his life out, but he’s happy. For now, that’s enough.

\--

“David, do you have a minute?” Graduation is in two days.

“Of course, Katie, what’s up?” David says. He’s on the floor with Leah, who is laying on a blanket playing with a little butterfly with a bell in its head and wings that make a crinkling sound when she smushes them. It’s her current favorite.

Kate sits down on the couch, but then stands back up again.

“David I’m – I can’t –“

David frowns. He stands up too, putting a hand on her elbow. She flinches away.

“Kate –“

“David, I can’t do this,” she says quietly. “With you. And Leah.”

“What are you saying, Katherine?” replies David, his voice low and shaky. He thinks he knows, though, and it’s constricting his lungs and his heart and –

“I’m breaking up with you,” Kate says. She won’t meet his eye. “You can have full custody of Leah, my father’s lawyer brought some paperwork this morning –“

“Kate,” David interrupts brokenly. “Why?”

“I’m not cut out to be a mother.”

“Bullshit.”

“And my father reminded me that I – that I have aspirations. That I want to make a difference. And it’ll be hard to get started in the industry if I have a newborn.”

She still won’t fucking look at him.

He can feel his heart cracking into little tiny pieces, and she won’t even look at him.

“He threatened to ruin me, David. To take away everything I’ve ever cared about –“

“What about us?” David snaps. He waves a hand between himself and Leah, still babbling unconcernedly on the floor. “Don’t you care about us?”

“David, it’s not that simple,” says Kate.

“It’s exactly that simple!” David replies, his voice rising and his eyes filling with tears. “It is exactly that _fucking_ simple, Katie. You’re the one who called the choice between – between your father’s money and help getting into your field and _us_ , your family, a choice between us and ‘everything you’ve ever cared about’.”

“David,” Kate says, her voice quiet and shaky and broken and she has no fucking _right._

David kneels down and scoops Leah up, holding her to his chest and trying to breathe normally.

“David, I’m sorry.”

“I’m leaving,” David says as coldly as he can. “I’ll – I’ll get the rest of our things and the _paperwork_ later.”

He takes Leah and her carrier and walks back the boys’ apartment as fast as his legs will carry him.

“Hey! Wasn’t expecting to see you two today, what’s up?” Benny says brightly as they come in, but his face falls when he takes in David’s stormy expression. “Davey, did something happen?”

David lets out a broken sob, all but falling into his friend’s arms, Leah still between them.

“David, are you okay? Is Kate okay?”

“She’s left me, Ben. After everything we’ve – she dumped me. She doesn’t want custody of Leah or anything.”

“Oh, David,” Benny says quietly. “Oh god, Dave, I’m so sorry.”

\--

The great tragedy of being twins is that Sarah and David graduate college at the same time. And while they’re lucky enough that their graduations aren’t the same weekend, Sarah’s fell during David’s finals period, so he couldn’t make it to hers.

She’s excited to go to his, though. They’ll be starting a new chapter of their lives – David and Sarah Jacobs, college grads. It’s going to be great. Their family’s flight goes without incident, and David’s due to meet them at the hotel.

_To: Twinsie_

_Hey we’re all checked in! What’s your ETA?_

It takes David a few minutes to respond, which is unusual. He’s usually a very prompt texter.

_Twinsie: Running a little late, I underestimated how long it would take us to get out the door._

_Twinsie: Be there soon._

_Me: Us???_

He doesn’t respond for almost fifteen minutes, and then it’s just an announcement that he’s in the lobby.

Sarah shares the update with her parents and Les, and the four of them pile into the elevator. She spots David first when they get to the lobby. He has his back to them, it looks like he might be carrying something, but as far as she can tell he’s alone.

“David!” Sarah calls. Les runs ahead to him.

David turns around and Sarah realizes that he _is_ carrying something. The other half of “us.”

A baby.

She feels their parents freeze behind her, but she pushes through her own shock and confusion to keep walking toward her brother. “Who’s this little angel?”

David takes a breath, looking like he’s trying to steel himself. “My daughter.”

“ _What_?” Sarah and Les say in near unison, probably a little too loudly for a public space. The baby is startled by the noise and starts to fuss.

“My daughter,” David repeats. He bounces her in his arms, rocking from side to side a little bit. “Sarah, Les, meet your niece. Leah Marie Jacobs.”

“Is this a prank?” asks Sarah, slightly dumbfounded.

“Sarah –“

“You don’t even have a girlfriend!”

“Not anymore,” David says, and his voice shakes the tiniest bit. Sarah can see a deep sadness behind his eyes, and as he says it for the briefest moment that sadness overtakes his whole expression and body language.

“I’m sorry, David,” Les says quietly. He slips an arm around their brother, resting his head against David’s upper arm.

David takes a shaky breath. “Thanks.”

Sarah turns and waves her parents over, since they’re still standing where they froze when David turned around. “Mom, Dad, c’mere and meet your granddaughter!”

Suddenly, David’s graduation tomorrow feels like the least important thing in the world.


	6. Bridge

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is an epilogue of sorts to bridge from the college years into the later stories. I hope you guys liked this story, it was a blast to write.

_From: Benny_

_Hey man I know we’re not living in the same city anymore but I’m still here for you if you need me, okay?_

\--

Jack is really excited about this job at the World. It’s not a huge publication or anything, but it’s still a bigger opportunity for him as a photographer than he ever expected to have.

He’s also excited to meet the pretty reporter who’s leaning on the desk next to Jack’s, talking to another photographer. She’s got coppery red hair and freckles, dressed in a purple that should clash with her hair but just ends up eye catching. He waits for their conversation to end before standing up and tapping her on the shoulder.

“Hey, beautiful, I don’t think we’ve met,” Jack says.

She rolls her eyes. “We haven’t.”

“Well we oughtta fix that,” says Jack, winking. “I’m Jack Kelly.”

“Katherine P-Plumber,” she responds. She flicks her hair over her shoulder.

“What, ain’t you sure?”

“I changed my last name recently, not that it’s any of your business,” says Katherine.

“Just get married?” Jack asks, testing the waters.

“No.”

“Well, it’s nice to meet you, Katie,” says Jack.

Katherine’s whole body tenses at the nickname, and there’s a flash of something like pain or guilt on her face. “Don’t call me Kate.”

“Kath it is,” Jack says. “Look, it seems we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot. Wanna go for lunch sometime and I can try to make it up to you?”

Katherine sighs, looking him over. “Yeah, alright.”

\--

_From: Benny_

_I haven’t heard from you in a while, bud, are you okay?_

\--

Sarah _loves_ hanging out with the Exes Club.

She’s the only girl who’s ever stuck around as part of the friend group, but she doesn’t mind the sea of guys – she can more than hold her own in the crowd.

Romeo’s started seeing a guy with the thickest glasses Sarah’s ever seen, who was immediately dubbed Specs after Race misheard his name (Spence) and it fit so perfectly, and he’s out with them tonight. She and Specs get along pretty well, so she’s talking to him when Jack shows up with his latest significant other.

It’s another girl, and Sarah can tell from the way she’s carrying herself that she and this girlfriend are gonna get along _swell_.

“Guys – and Sarah,” Jack says, squeezing her close, “this is Katherine! We work together at the World. Please don’t be weird!”

“Ain’t gonna happen, Cowboy!” Spot calls from the other end of the table, rolling his eyes.

They go around introducing themselves, and Sarah lets herself fall last. She stands up, offering a hand to the new girl. “I’m Sarah, junior year of college.”

“Nice to meet you,” Katherine says, shaking her hand. She’s got a funny look on her face, like she’s concentrating on something difficult. “Have we met before?”

“I don’t think so,” says Sarah. She gives Katherine her most charming smile. “I’m sure I’d remember _your_ pretty face.”

Katherine smiles. “You just look really familiar.”

“I’m happy to get familiar with you,” says Sarah. “Come sit down?”

“Sarah, please stop flirting with my girlfriend,” Jack cuts in, exasperated.

“Date somebody less my type!” Sarah replies.

Katherine laughs.

\--

_From: Benny_

_Darce and Bill told me you don’t talk to them anymore either. Do you talk to anyone?_

_\--_

Tony shifts Frankie in his arms as Sean knocks on their neighbor’s door.

“Just a sec!” comes from the other side of the door, a little muffled. Then, a little quieter, “Leah, no!” and a small thud.

The door opens, revealing a stressed looking man in his very early twenties – he can’t be any older than Tony – who seems more than a little startled to see them. “Hi, what’s up?”

“We’re your neighbors,” Tony says. “I’m Tony, he’s Sean. The little guy is Frankie.”

Sean gestures across the hall toward their door. “We saw you moving in. Brought cookies.”

“Oh,” their neighbor says. There’s a sound of tiny footsteps from behind him, then a thunk. He turns, then scoops a baby off of the floor. “We’re just figuring out walking,” he tells Sean and Tony. “I’m David, by the way, and this is my daughter Leah. Would you like to come in?”

Sean nods.

David leads them into his apartment. It’s a mirror to their own in layout, and David sits down in the living room and gestures for them to sit down as well.

“How old is Frankie?” David asks. He’s got Leah perched on his knees, and Tony mirrors his position with Frankie and the two babies start babbling to each other immediately.

Or, at least, Leah starts babbling at Frankie, who is clearly fascinated by her but much younger so he’s still working on his communication skills.

“Six months,” says Sean. “He’ll be one in august. How about Leah?”

“She’s just barely one,” David replies. “We just passed her birthday.”

“Fun!” Tony says. “Did you do anything fun?”

David shrugs. “We had dinner with my family, but until this morning we lived in my parents’ house, so that’s kind of just how dinner was every night. We put a cupcake in front of her, though, and she got icing everywhere.” He kisses the top of Leah’s head, which is covered in fine dark curls. “But we don’t live with Gramma and Grampa anymore, do we Leah-beah? We’ve got our own place now, just you and me.”

Tony meets his husband’s eye. He’s getting the instinctive impression that David doesn’t have a lot of people in his life right now, and there’s something tired about his body language that runs deeper than just the kind of exhaustion that must come with being the single parent of a baby. Tony kind of wants to give him a hug and never let go, but that seems a little weird for the first time you meet somebody.

They’re just gonna have to be best friends with David. Shouldn’t be a hard sell, the kids are getting along already.

“It’s just you guys?” Sean says gently.

David gives them a tight smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Her mother left me when she was three months old. I – I don’t really like to talk about it.”

“You don’t have to,” Sean says, leaning forward slightly. “I’m sorry for asking.”

“It’s alright, people always do.”

Tony and Sean exchange another look. Tony says, “Well, if you ever need a hand with her let us know, okay? We’ve got some local sitters we can hook you up with and – well, it’s always nice to have parent friends.”

This time David’s smile is genuine. “Thanks, I really appreciate that.”

\--

_From: Benny_

_I think about you a lot, David. I really hope you and Leah are doing well._

_I get that I’m probably really tied up in the situation with Katie for you, so you probably don’t really want to hear from me. That’s fine._

_But one of these days, could you just_

_Please let me know you’re okay._


End file.
